


Ortu Actio

by nightlyvalor



Series: Ortu Actio [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Awakening Spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlyvalor/pseuds/nightlyvalor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin and Frederick discover they're with child, and are happy beyond belief. But before they can announce the news, Chrom delivers some that's much more grave; war is about to break on Ylissean soil. Robin conceals her pregnancy in order to lead the army to a much-needed victory, at the risk of being returned to Ylisstol if her secret were discovered. Gods only know what will happen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery and Disdain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "His eyes narrowed some, staring at you like some sort of criminal and he was trying to figure out the game you were playing."

You couldn’t believe the words that left Libra’s mouth after visiting him that morning. As you paced down the corridors of Ylisstol’s castle, you still couldn't believe the humongous news he dropped on you. 

After falling ill with some strange sickness the last week, Frederick’s incessant pushes to consult healers finally worked. You tried to convince him you were fine; after all, you only felt sick in the mornings and you were fine the rest of the day.

He said it was a curse, you blamed bad food. Regardless, he convinced you to talk to healers as a precaution. The only reason it worked was because he promised to treat you to a romantic evening if you reported back healthy and stable.

You had been looking forward to a passionate night when you met with Libra. That changed in an instant. Three little words that managed to rock your entire world; you were pregnant.

The idea sent your stomach flipping, but in a good way. A smile broke onto your face when he told you, mirroring his own. About two weeks along, he told you, and reminded you to tell your husband as soon as you could.

This was the reason why you were currently heading for the training field, where Frederick was breaking in the new Ylissean Guard recruits. The courtyard was chock full of soldiers ready to protect their Exalt despite it being the second year of peace in the halidom. 

He trained them as if preparing for the worst. It was a talent of his you noticed. After coming up with every possible illness or curse related to “morning sickness”, you could imagine the shock on his face when you told him it was nothing of the sort. He’d spent hours pouring over those medical journals, too. 

A smile broke onto your face when you reached the courtyard. Therewas your husband, his back to you as he drilled the poor recruits into the ground. To think it was barely noon and they were nearly wiped out.

“I want 500 push-ups from each of you! If a single one of you stops, gives out or loses consciousness, you will be forced to start over! And yes, that goes for everyone.” Frederick’s order made even _you_ cringe, wondering how those poor young men were able to hold up to such rigorous training.

There was an empathetic look on your face when you stepped onto the grassy expanse of the castle’s outer courtyard, gently placing a hand on Frederick’s shoulder when you reached him. “Don’t you think you’re going a little too hard on them, dear?” You asked, meeting his gaze when he glanced down at you.

“If they wish to serve, I must make sure they meet up to even the highest standards, milady.” Frederick responded, though he was quick to remove himself from the struggling troops. "I’m assuming you’ve spoken with Libra, already? What did he tell you?”

You grinned up at him, taking one of his hands in yours. You noticed his disapproving expression at your excitement, but you intended to wipe it away. “Well, after running me through plenty of thorough examinations, he told me that I’m fine. In fact I'm perfectly healthy.”

His brow furrowed. “That can’t be right. How can someone be ‘healthy’ and vomiting every morning? Don’t tell me he’s been cursed, too?”

“No, Frederick, nobody’s been cursed. If anything, we’ve been blessed.” You told him, which only served to make his confusion worse. “Do you remember that time Chrom let me spend some time with Lucina, and I got to bring her to our quarters?”

“I recall that, yes.”

“And while I was playing with her, you mentioned how I’d be a wonderful mother? Naturally, I agreed.” You continued, hoping he was beginning to catch on to what you were saying. His eyes narrowed some, staring at you like some sort of criminal and he was trying to figure out the game you were playing.

“Which means…?”

“You suggested we look into possibly starting a family of our own, and again I agreed.” You gave his hand a small squeeze, and his frown deepened.  


Then his face went slack. 

“Y-you don’t mean-”

“It happened.” You grin broadly, resisting the urge to jump up and down. “I’m pregnant!”

“You-- You’re pregnant? _Truly?!”_ Frederick’s eyes grew wide at the idea, catching both your hands in his when you nodded again. “I can hardly- Robin, this is...this is…”

“Amazing??”

“Yes!” He had yet to smile, shock overwhelming everything else in his system. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at you as if you were the greatest, strangest thing he’d ever seen. “When did this happen??”

“I believe it was the evening a few weeks ago that's the cause. I’m sure you can recall.” You wink at him, making him chuckle tiredly, lips finally quirking upwards. 

“Of course.” He exhaled, taking hold of your shoulders. “Oh, Robin, this is wonderful.” He pulled you up into his arms, embracing you carefully, “We’re having a baby!”

“We are.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head. “I can’t wait to tell Chrom, he’ll be so excited!”

“Indeed, we should inform him immediately. He’ll be pleased to know we’ll be supplying Lady Lucina with a playmate, soon.”

“We’re not ‘supplying’ anyone with anything.” You giggle, noting his bashful expression when he realized his wording was a touch...dehumanizing.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but regardless, we must tell him soon!” He continued hastily, and returned to the soldiers. “All right, soldiers, it looks like Naga has smiled down on you this day; instead of push-ups, we’ll be doing something else!”

They breathed a unanimous sigh of relief.

“50 laps around the castle perimeter! Go, now!”

And the world ended yet again.

“I was sure you would give them some sort of break, or something.” You laugh tiredly, which Frederick ignores while linking his arm with yours and lead you back into the castle.

“I’ll have Stahl monitor their progress while we go to see Lord Chrom. By the time we get back they’ll only be halfway done.” He informed you, tipping you off he’d only assigned it to them so you could both tell Chrom the news. A pang of guilt stung your chest, empathizing with the poor boys’ torture you’d initiated.

“Lady Robin!” A servant girl suddenly called out to you, making both of you pause as she rushed to meet you. Bowing quickly, she continued, “Milady, Lord Chrom wishes to speak with you.”

“Chrom?” You repeat, glancing at Frederick, “Is something the matter?”

“He only specified it was of utmost importance! He requested you come immediately."

"...All right, we'll be there soon." You replied, and she bowed again before leaving. The both of you stood there, wondering where the maid's tension had come from.

"You don't think it's anything uneventful, do you?" He asked you, continuing towards the throne room. You shrugged, maintaining a neutral expression.

"I suppose were about to find out." You stated, just as you entered into the grand room. The Exalt lit up when he saw you both, seemingly happy to see you.

“Robin, Frederick.” He greeted you both with a warm smile, but even you could tell it was strained.

“Hello, Chrom. I was told you have some ‘important business’ to talk about?” You responded with a smile of your own, and Chrom nodded solemnly.

“I’m afraid we've got a situation on our hands. We’re expecting a visitor from Ferox that should be able to tell us what's going on.” He informs you both, and Frederick manages to speak before you do.

“What is the subject matter of this ‘situation’, Milord?” His question hung in the air for a solid few seconds, the conflict on Chrom’s face only serving to make your optimism fail.

“War.”

One word had never hit you so hard. Your gaze immediately met Frederick’s, a look of ominous shock coating both your faces.

There couldn’t be a war, not after just finding out you were pregnant. It wasn’t fair. Swallowing the fear that had spiked into your throat, you managed to speak.

“How do we know there's going to be one? Were we challenged by someone?” 

“It was a declaration from across the sea, milady.” A familiar voice came from behind you, and you turned to see the cropped blonde hair of Raimi, Flavia’s captain of the Feroxi Guard. She bowed curtly, and it was a struggle to do even that much in return.

“Thank you for coming, Raimi.” Chrom spoke first, “I was hoping you would be able to join us. Please, tell us everything that you know.”

“I’m afraid a very dangerous letter was sent to our kingdom but a week ago, stating the Valmese are planning on taking over our lands. Ferox, Ylisse and even Plegia were listed in the Conqueror's plot for war. He blew through Valm in months, alone. We aren’t sure how, but we know his power cannot be taken lightly. Now that he’s made plans to invade the halidom, thousands have been thrown into panic. Even in Ferox, the mention of his name sets warriors on edge.”

“Then we to cut him off before he reaches the mainland. He’s approaching by sea, correct?” Chrom finally joined the conversation, stepping forward with his hand on Falchion’s handle. “What if we push his forces back before they come to us?”

“That sort of planning should wait until council with Khan Flavia. She’s requested your presence in Ferox to elaborate on the matter at hand. She has many more details to provide, unlike me. I’m afraid all I can give you is what I’ve already said.”

“It’s all right. I understand,” Chrom thanked her before turning to you both, “Though I would be much more comfortable joining you back to Ferox if I could have my knight and tactician with me.” His following sentence made Frederick turn to you, eyes narrowed.

“That wouldn’t be a problem at all. In fact, Khan Flavia specifically requested both you and Robin attend.” She replied, bowing once again. “I’m afraid I must take my leave now, sire. We look forward to seeing you again.”

“Farewell, Raimi.” Chrom bowed as well, before turning his attention to his closest friends. He crossed his arms, an uncomfortable look on his face. “...So, war.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later. Two years of peace was nice while it lasted, don’t you think?” You offer a weak attempt at lightening the mood, though it’s ineffective. “It’s surprising to think a single man has conquered an entire country.”

“I suppose he’s called the Conqueror for a reason.” The Exalt mused. “We should make preparations to leave immediately. Robin, when will you be ready to leave for Ferox?”

Frederick surprised you both by stepping forward, hands clasped behind his back. “I was hoping to speak with you about that, Milord. If I may be so bold, I would like to request that Robin remain here for the duration of the-”

“-I’ll be ready by tomorrow morning.” You interrupted your husband by taking a step up of your own, earning you two sets of surprised eyes on you. One was a lot less happy than the other. “Give me some time to secure supplies, and we can leave immediately.”

“Good. Oh, and Frederick, what was it you were trying to say?” Chrom checked with your husband, who had since looked away from you. His hands were clenched now, which foreshadowed a dangerous conversation was coming.

“Nothing, Milord. Forget I spoke.” He corrected himself, and you quickly made your exit. “If you’ll excuse us, we have some...planning to do.”

“Er...right.” Chrom watched the both of you leave, wondering if he’d done something to cause tension. You had a head-start on Frederick when you left, the knight trailing behind you at a serious pace. Something was about to happen, and he was almost glad he wouldn't be there to witness it.

~*~

You reached your quarters first, walking into the place and heading straight for the bedroom. Sinking onto the bed, you barely sat down on the mattress before Frederick stormed in, shutting the door loudly.

“Are you mad?” Were the first words out of his mouth, and all you could do was shrug. You hugged your arms to your chest, grasping your elbows tightly as you avoided his gaze. “You can’t be serious Robin, you’re not going to Ferox. I can’t allow it, not now!”

“You heard Raimi; Flavia specifically requested both of us, and I can’t very well refuse the Khan.” You responded weakly, but Frederick wouldn’t have it. He strode towards you with worry and anger painfully evident.

“She requested you go to _war!_ You seriously plan on attending a council that will put you in battle? Did you forget the news we just received?” His voice was beginning to raise. You looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“Because he won’t let me come if I do!” You argued, making Frederick’s face blanch.

“That’s precisely why you’re supposed to tell him!” He grasped your shoulders, the intensity growing in the air around him. “Unless you’re deliberately trying to get yourself killed? Is that it?”

“Of course not!” You snap at him, feeling exhausted with the conversation already. “We both know Chrom’s tactical prowess is as bad as Vaike’s, if not worse! I can’t let him lead the entire army against an enemy that conquers countries! We’d be dead before we even saw him.”

Your reasoning was sound, which frustrated Frederick more. He glared at you, worry defining his every feature. He released your shoulders to rub his forehead, exhaling sharply. 

“That may very well be true, but I cannot allow you to go all the same.”

“Frederick-!”

“I won’t risk the lives of my family, especially now that we’ve just discovered the news! Do you plan on endangering the baby’s life? What if we lose them before they’re even born? What if I lose _both_ of you?” He brought up a hard point, and you fell silent. 

It was obvious he was worried, borderline frightened for your lives. A hand came up to touch your stomach, the little life already growing inside you. The last thing you wanted was to put them in danger, but what choice did you have? With a heavy heart, you shook your head.

“I don’t want to put anyone in harm, especially not the baby.” You finally spoke, and Frederick seemed to relax. “But I have to go, Frederick.”

“Robin-”

“What if you lose _your_ life trying to fight in poorly orchestrated battles? What if countless others die from a _preventable death,_ because I wasn’t there to lead you?” You argued, “If I’m not there to protect you, who will?” 

“I’m not the one in need of protection. I can handle myself fine.” He attempted to assure you, but knew by the look on your face it was worthless. “Robin, you can’t consider this. You have to understand the danger of what you’re planning. I can’t, in good conscience, allow this.”

“And I can’t, in good conscience, stay. Someone has to protect the army.”

“Someone has to protect _you.”_ Frederick countered quietly, taking your hand from his face and giving it a squeeze.

“That’s why you’re going to be there with me.” You continued, squeezing back. “We’ll make arrangements with Chrom to make sure you’re with me every second of the day. ...Well, maybe not every second, but as much as possible. I’ll need your help keeping the baby concealed.”

“You don’t plan on telling him, even after the battle’s begun?” He realized, and you nodded. “That’s impossible, Robin. If the changes don’t give it away, your body will.”

“Then we’ll just have to end the war as soon as possible. We’ve got four months before it starts to show, and a couple weeks after before the armor gets uncomfortable. I’ll tie my coat and conceal everything as best I can. So long as you help me, we can make it work.”

“Why not tell Chrom about the baby after we’re there? If we reach a point of no return, he’ll have no choice but to keep you in the ranks. ...Loathe as I am to consider it.” 

The comment made you smile, albeit barely. “I’m not sure how we'll work out the details, but for now, only we need to know. However, we’ll consult Libra as well, considering he’s the one who delivered the news.”

“Then we speak after leaving. If you’re...certain about this, I suppose I have little choice but to accept your terms.” He finally admitted. You rose from the bed, closing the distance between you by wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

“We’ll figure it out.” You promised, nuzzling against him. His hands reached up to hold you slowly, pressing you close to him. Frederick rested his chin atop your head, eyes closing against the harsh world you were about to face.

“I'll hold you to that, milady.” He murmured into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “If anything happens, you let me know immediately, understand? It’s my duty to protect you. ...Both of you.” 

You felt his fingers ghost over your stomach, which made a warm smile break onto your lips. “I know, dear. We’ll take things as they come, and sooner or later we’ll be done with the whole mess.” 

“I’ll do everything in my power to make it so.”

His determined promise lingered in the silence afterwards, the two of you enjoying each other’s ambient touch. It was going to be a long, hard road ahead, one neither of you looked forward to. Your fingers pressed against Frederick with more tension than before, a grimace crossing your face that you wouldn’t let him see.

You had no idea what was going to happen, much less how you were supposed to solve this.

_‘Dear Naga, help us…’_


	2. Somber Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I will protect you both...no matter the cost.”

The road to Ferox was brief and tense. You could practically feel Frederick breathing down your neck, watching your every move as you walked alongside Chrom. At first he had protested the very notion of you walking (due to your suddenly very serious “condition”), but you insisted in order to maintain normalcy.

“Your husband is so caring, Robin~” Lissa sang, making you sigh and roll your eyes, “Making sure you don’t stub your little toe on the dirt path, what a valiant knight.” 

“It is very possible such a thing could happen, milady.” Frederick corrected her from behind, and you cast him an apologetic smile. “You mustn’t take such things for granted. Gods forbid, you could stumble and fall at any given moment.”

“That’s so true!” She gasped, the falsity in her tone making you bite back a groan. “Although it wouldn’t be near as much of a problem if you were riding ahead and clearing the path like you used to!”

“That was two years ago, milady.” He responded simply, keeping his eyes ahead and remaining vigilant, “I believe you can handle a simple country road on your own. Aside from that,” He glanced down at you, “My priorities have...changed, since two years ago.”

You shared eye contact for a lingering second, until you felt Lissa's stare. You waved your hand dismissively, interrupting her before she could say a thing, “Don’t believe him for a second. You know he’d happily charge ahead of the group and clear the path if you asked, though I doubt you'd have to.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t.” Chrom says from in front of you, making all three of you burst into a round of chuckles. Frederick grunted beside you, obviously displeased, and you looked up at him with a shrug of your shoulder. 

His gaze softened some; it was nice to see that relaxed smile on your lips. You’d been particularly tense the moment you left the castle. While Frederick couldn’t afford to ease his worries, it was relieving to know that you could; after all, stressing wasn’t good for the baby. He read that in a medical journal, once.

“We are not far off, Milord.” Raimi stated from beside Chrom, her hands clasped tight behind her back as she acted your escort. “A few more hours, at most, and we’ll have arrived to speak with Khan Flavia. Furthermore, we’ve already made arrangements to allow you to stay overnight.”

“An overnight visit?” Chrom looked back at his comrades, brow furrowing. “Why would she arrange for that?”

“It mostly has to do with the severity of the situation.” Raimi replied grimly, “It may be a while before you’re able to return to Ylisstol.”

Again, you shared a look with Frederick. His grip tightened on the reins, and you could see him calculating the plans to send you back home already.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” You replied, offering a small smile. “With any luck we’ll be able to handle the situation tactfully, and maintain peace.”

* * *

Once you entered the castle, the lady general lead you through the halls. You appreciated its beauty, though your focus remained on the current issue.

“Well, look who it is!” Khan Flavia’s voice rang out of the throne room, bright and brilliant. You smiled, seeing her so strong despite the situation. Looking closely, though, one could see the concern in her eyes.

“Khan Flavia, it’s good to see you.” Chrom greeted her, bowing deeply. She reciprocated the gesture with a chuckle, stepping down to meet you all. “I’ve been told you have some information to share with us.”

“A big _mess_ is what I’ve got to share. A storm's coming and we’re about to get hit.” She replied seriuosly, looking to you. “Walhart’s stronger than we imagined, Robin. Hopefully you’ll be able to pull us through.”

“Surely you aren’t planning on leaving an entire war in _my_ hands?” You grimaced, feeling Frederick’s gaze on your back. “That is, if there even _is_ a war.”

“Trust me, it's unavoidable.” Flavia frowned. “Your tactical prowess is what we need to pull through, but it’s going to be a close match. Walhart’s sending boatfuls of soldiers down the Road as we speak. It’s only a matter of days before they show up.”

“Has no one tried to negotiate with this man?” Your follow up question was met with a humorless laugh.

“Negotiations with this man went as well as that old rat, Gangrel's.”

“If that’s how severe this is, what do we do?” Chrom asked with strain you'd heard before.

“There’s not much more I can tell you. I've got a guy who might be able to, though. Basilio- wait a second, where is he? Hey, Oaf!! Where in Hell are you, you big, bald-”

Before she finished her tirade, a familiar face stepped into the room. Granted he looked less amused than usual. He nodded at you and Chrom, a grin on his face. “Look at these kids; left for two years and you’re all grown up!”

“Good to see you, Basilio.” You managed a smile. “How are you fairing?”

“Well enough, but we’re not here to talk about me. I’ve brought someone who can give information on the matter. You’ve met him before.” Basilio’s cryptic comment gave way to the man striding in, a flashy grin on his face. You bit back a groan; you recognized that hair anywhere.

“Greetings, lords and ladies! It is I, the great Virion!” He announced with a smirk, completely aware of how flamboyant he was being despite the tense room. “Have I not surprised you with my presence? Surely you did not think of seeing me here, this day!”

“To be frank, we were hoping your sudden disappearance would be permanent.” Chrom responded, making you snicker (against your better judgement). You could see the corners of Frederick’s mouth turn upwards, if only slightly.

“You wound me!” Virion cried, flinging his head back, “I thought you would be pining for my presence after the bravery I bestowed upon your army! In fact, I was certain you would-”

“-I assure you, had we not known before we would have been surprised.” Frederick interrupted the monologue before it grew worse.

“And what brings you all the way here, oh magnificent nobleman?” Basilio quirked an eyebrow, and at this Virion faltered.

"Unfortunately, my homeland was taken captive by Walhart. I was able to save a little, but much was burnt away. I decided to visit, in search of help." He explained. "After seeing what he is capable of, I would be honored to help in any way I can. So, I ask you to listen to my tale, and allow me to share details of our enemy. I’m sure you haven’t heard much, and I will gladly share what I know.”

“Well, I don't see why not... Very well. Let’s get this over with.” Chrom agreed, and the lot of you moved to speak about the situation in a more private area. You were thankful to be able to sit in a council room, for once.

Hours passed in that room, Virion giving as much information as he could with as much detail as possible. Had it not been for Cherche's summaries, you were certain you’d be there all night. 

You couldn’t have been happier for the sky to turn dark, retiring to your guest quarters after the meeting was adjourned. You thought the situation was heavy on your heart before, but it was nothing compared to what you knew now.

“Gods, Frederick...can you believe it?” You sighed, sinking onto the mattress while he shut you both in for the night. “The man’s a monster…”

“It appears he lives up to the rumors and more.” He agreed, recalling Virion’s account of Walhart's invasion. Homes burned, streets riddled with blood and bodies. It was the Plegian War all over again.

“We thought we could avoid it.” You smile bitterly. Frederick sighed as he walked up to you, removing gauntlets and gloves from his hands,. “Looks like we’re in it for the long run.”

“You don’t have to be, you know.” Frederick commented, coming to sit next to you like before. “I can make arrangements to send you home, where you will be safe.”

“You heard Khan Flavia, she’s counting on me. How she expects _me_ to hold so many up against a monster is beyond me, but she wants me to, so…” You trailed off, feeling Frederick’s arms slip around you and pull you to him.

“I was hoping the idea of challenging said monster would change your mind.” He mumbled against your neck, making you sigh. Your arms came up, hands rubbing the tense muscles between his shoulder blades. 

“I can’t decline an order from the Khan. What would that do to Ylisse's reputation?”

“Destroy it.” He pulled away to look at you directly . “But surely their position would change if they knew. At the very least offer less work for you to handle?”

“I can take whatever they give me. Besides, the sooner we get this done the sooner we can quit worrying, right?” You pointed out, placing a hand over your womb with a smile. “I don’t plan on elongating this battle, for both your sake and theirs. Heavens know how badly you’ll be fretting when we begin.”

“I’ve already begun.” He admitted.

“It’ll be _fine,_ Frederick. So long as you’re here to protect me, remember? I have every confidence in you.”

“And I, you. ...Mostly.” He muttered the last part, making you roll your eyes. “I suppose there’s little use in worrying about it now. It’s best you get some rest; I feel you’re going to need it.”

“Agreed.” You chime, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, “Are you going to join me?”

“Not yet,” He rose, releasing you from his grasp with lingering fingers, “I need to make my rounds to ensure Lord Chrom and Princess Lissa have settled in. I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t get lost on the way.” You called as he walked out, nestling into bed. It was comfortable, but hard to enjoy. Your hands slid under the pillow, facing your side of the bed as you were finally given peace to think.

You were going to war with a baby inside you. You were as frightened as Frederick was. The chances that something bad happening was astronomical, but you were determined to beat the odds.

You would win. If not for yourself, your family. There was no way you'd lose them. You couldn't.

~*~

Frederick sighed softly when he returned an hour after he left you to sleep. He was exhausted; to think his wife wanted to fight pregnant near made him break down; how could you think that was sound?

Sure, you weren’t that far along. But wars didn’t end in a few months. Even if you were fortunate enough to make it through, the baby would be born in the thick of war. He’d be cursed if his child was a war baby.

 _'I doubt Robin will shift on her position.'_ He thought with a frown, opening the door to his guest quarters. _'I suppose that’s what I get for having a wife as stubborn as myself.'_

Entering the room, he found the candle on your side blown out, your breathing slowed beneath the blankets. He stole a few glances at your sleeping face, the tiniest of smiles on his. You looked so peaceful; something that wouldn't be regular, soon. Slipping into bed, he turned you to him, brushing his hand down your cheek gently. 

“Fear not, Robin.” He whispered, his eyes shining in the dark when the candle burned out. “I will protect you both...no matter the cost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the amount of exposition in this chapter, I actually considered naming it "The Exposition" just to let you know you're in for a mountain of dialogue. Fear not, battle will soon be upon our soil...though I'm not sure whether you want that or not.


	3. Catalyst Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Making a lesson of the civilian just made an enemy out of you."

Morning came with troubles plaguing your mind. Even after a decent night’s sleep, you had problems assaulting your brain and no way to solve them.

Your hand came to your stomach, brushing your skin. It was terrifying; because there was an innocent life involved, and you involved it. A frown crossed your lips, retracting your hand to press it under your pillow.

“You’ll have to forgive me, little one.” You whispered, “You’ll be born in a very unfortunate time.” 

You felt a small shift next to you, but didn’t acknowledge it until a warm hand snaked around your waist and pressed against your chest, right over your heart. You relaxed against Frederick’s gentle touch. “How are you faring this morning, Robin?”

His voice was tired and groggy, making you smile. “I’m all right,” You replied, burying your face in the pillow, “Just worrying about the baby, is all. We...didn’t plan at all, did we?”

“We didn’t know there would be war.” Frederick pointed out.

"I just hope we can protect them. I'm going to do all I can to keep myself from harm, but I still worry."

"You mustn't take my words from my mouth, milady." Frederick mused, leaning over and planting a kiss along your hairline. "I hate to say it, but I know you've no choice in the matter. The least I can do is ensure your protection. And because that's my duty, you needn't worry yourself with it."

"But it can't be that simple." You looked back to him with a playful glimmer in your eyes. Frederick shrugged, drawing his hand over your cheek.

“In recent years, I have found that things aren't as complicated as they seem. So, why don't you try and get a little more sleep...if not for me, for the child.” 

His hand brushed your stomach like yours had, and you finally succumbed to his wishes (for once). Frederick’s chin rested atop your head, a lingering moment before the battle began.

~*~

You had a good couple minutes before a soldier entered the room, requesting the audience of both tactician and knight to prepare for the coming march.

A quick breakfast, bout of information on the impending battle, and it was time to go. Thankfully the road to Feroxi Port wasn’t arduous, but your mind wasn't prepared for the looming attack. 

The Port was eerily silent. Soldiers waited to see what might happen. Frederick remained posted at your side, gripping his lance as you waited for the inevitable. Chrom and Flavia were on the other end, boiling with tension.

“Have the scouts returned?” You asked quietly, to which she shook her head. Your lips drew into a thin line; a lot was riding on this battle- gauging how strong the enemy was being the big one.

“Not yet. The best we can do is sit and wait for the word. Until then, we stand at the ready.” 

Having no word was almost better than having it; you weren’t worried about numbers or strength. Not yet, anyways. That came seven minutes later, when you caught the tips of sails over the horizon.

You narrowed your eyes on the faded blue of the sky that reflected onto deep red. You moved to alert Flavia, but she’d seen them.

“They’re coming!!” A sudden shout sent the entire army into rigid formation, staring at the men barreling towards them. “The Valmese are here!!”

“How many?” Basilio demanded.

“Several ships, sire. A-at least a dozen…! They’re loaded with soldiers of all kinds...assassins, archers, a-and warriors cling to the sides!”

“Well there's nothing to worry about, then! We’ve got the famous tactician on our side, and twice the army, too. If anyone stands a chance, it’s us!!”

Basilio’s words touched everyone but you; nervousness pooled in your gut at the realization there were more than you fathomed. _Twelve_ loaded ships? Your army would only account for five, maybe six.

Your thoughts paused when you felt a hand grasp your shoulder. Looking up, your eyes locked with Frederick’s. “You can do this, Robin. You’ll have us by your side to help fight.” He assured you. “No harm shall come while I'm beside you.”

“Right.” You nodded, released as the ships sailed in. You swiveled around to address the army, preparing the soldiers for what they would encounter. Then, they arrived.

You stood ready, glaring at the captain when he came to port. What you didn’t expect was an innocent villager suddenly lifted by his hand. He was terrified, and you weren’t sure what was happening. When the knife came to his throat, diplomacy shattered.

“Looks like talking isn’t going to help.” You stated, repulsed. Chrom unsheathed Falchion with a scoff.

“You thought it was an option?” His response made you shrug, readying Thoron before giving the signal to charge. 

“I hoped.” You muttered. With that, the soldiers were rallied. The army surged forward with you at the helm, firing away the magic before they came within reach.

 _’Now I pray we’ll make it out alive.’_

The battle started with promise, but with every second you remained in the fray, the more you realized it was going to be a losing fight the longer you tried to hold your own. You had to find a way out, and quick.

“ROBIN!!” You suddenly heard Flavia shout over the roar of battle, and you whipped around to see her being viciously attacked in every sense of the word. You grit your teeth, trying to head in her direction. "We're getting eaten alive out here!! What're your orders?!"

“Fall back!!” You ordered, the battle not going to plan. Your armies were being decimated and you were running out of time.

“Chrom, you’ve got to help Flavia thin out the soldiers; ours aren’t enough! Frederick and I will handle the captain. We’ve got to end this before it’s too late!”

“Understood! Just don’t do anything stupid!” Chrom responded loudly, and you leapt onto Frederick’s horse, the two you forcing your way through enemy soldiers. 

Bodies then flew, powerless against your strength. The longer you fought, you noticed how Frederick pushed himself over you. Near every spell was wasted as his lance struck before you reached them.

“Brace yourself, milady,” Frederick called back, “We’re about to board.” That was the only caution you got before Hebert leapt up the ramp. You bit back a shriek and clung to his waist to keep from falling off. “Didn’t I tell you to brace yourself?”

“Hush.” You snapped, relenting your grip on him to address the captain standing on a rather barren boat. That was thanks to the Thoron you cast, destroying those attempting to protect him. The man was menacing, lips curled into a grin.

“You think you’ve the strength to take me down? Pah! Foolish Ylisseans, you can't even hold your own against foot soldiers.” 

“I’m uncertain if you were watching, but we handled ourselves just fine.” You replied evenly. You dismounted from Hebert and stood your ground, hand up to cast a spell. 

“You forget, tactician,” He spat, advancing towards you, “I’m no mere soldier.” The lance was raised above his head, prepared to strike you head on. Your eyes narrowed and you charged Thoron, ready to zap him through the heart and let him lie. 

“What a coincidence; we’re not, either!!” 

Chaos ensued when you attacked.

Just before you released the spell, Frederick charged in front of you and deflected man’s lance- putting himself in the perfect spot to get electrocuted. You gasped, pulling down before the attack burst. The lightning barely missed Hebert before cracking through the wood, straight through the ship. 

Frederick didn’t notice, driving his lance through the captain without a second thought. Panting heavily, he turned to you, a deadly expression on his face. It paled in comparison to yours.

“Frederick, what were you thinking?! I nearly fried you, jumping in front of me like that!” You cried. He didn’t respond, instead hoisting you onto Hebert’s back.

“We'll discuss it later, milady. For now I believe we should escape the ship before we sink with it.” He replied in a cool tone that near made you want to smack him. How was he so calm after what he did?

Your arms reluctantly came around him as he left the ship. Now that the captain was dealt with, the army seemed unwilling to continue. It made your job easier, but didn’t help the issue on your mind.

It wasn’t like Frederick to leap in front of you, especially not when you had the situation under control. You knew it was because of the baby. A sense of dread pooled in your stomach, dreading it happening again.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t; lest you kill your husband because of a foolish move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late post! Unfortunately I've been fantastically swamped with various projects, which is my own fault. I'll get back on the ball next week, no worries!


	4. Resisting and Retching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Only time would tell."

Just like that, you were thrown into war. Flavia’s army was decimated without hope. The ships were few and far between. Taking on the Valmese navy was guaranteed failure. This was the issue that lead you to the council you were currently in.

“Absolutely not. I’m not asking them for help!” Chrom shouted, fists clenched as he stood before you, Flavia, Basilio and Frederick.

“You think we _want_ to ask for their help?” Flavia snapped. “If we don’t, we sacrifice hundreds of lives for nothing. Do you want that?”

“Don’t you remember what he did? To Ylisse, to the Shepherds, to _Emm…_ I refuse to negotiate with that barbarian country.” He said, stubborn as ever. You sighed, beyond exhausted.

“I know you’re wary, but we don't have options. Plegia has a strong naval presence. It would be foolish to ignore that, regardless.” You chided, and his gaze flickered. If he didn’t listen to his wife, he listened to you, even more than Frederick (much to his disappointment).

“I’m afraid she’s right, milord. We truly don’t have any alternatives.” Frederick agreed, only sealing Chrom’s decision. The prince exhaled heavily, clenching his hands.

“You’re _positive,_ there’s nothing else we can do?”

“What do you think we’ve been drilling into your head, boy?” Basilio replied gruffly, “Even if we built our own navy, we’d be conquered before they hit port!” 

“If their alliance is a farce, we won’t have Valm to worry about.” He tried to reason, but the silent glares surrounding him deterred his argument. “...Fine. But if we’re killed by Plegians, _you’re_ to blame.”

“As you wish, milord.” Frederick sighed, “Now, we should all look into setting camp for the night.”

“You want to stay here? It’s only a few hours from the castle.” Flavia told him, “With fewer numbers we’ll return sooner. We should make the trip and resupply before we hit Plegia.”

“That would be unwise. Plegia is closer from Port, directly south. There are towns along the way we can restock at. Aside from that, I believe we should stay and help civilians. This place is a bit decimated, after all.”

You glanced around, looking at the devastation surrounding the port. You made a mess of things, but if you hadn’t, gods know how bad it would have turned out for people and country.

“Besides, I believe we could all use some rest after what happened.” He glanced over at you, which you returned with a nod. 

“I second that notion.”

“Come, then.” Frederick wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “I think it’s time to get you resting.”

“What about helping the city?”

“Those who are able will join. I don’t think you qualify.” He responded. Now you didn’t agree, but you certainly didn’t complain when he let you lean against him, supporting you while he walked to Hebert.

“I’ll be fine,” You attempted to assure him, “I just need a breather. Besides, you were the one taking hits, not me.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t join you.” He replied, lifting you up and placing you in Hebert’s saddle. “I will stay for a short while. It’s important we tend your needs before anything else.”

“I suppose I can humor you, then…” You mumbled, leaning back against his chest as his arms came around you. Snapping the reins, he started for the designated campgrounds, which were thankfully close.

You rode in silence, enjoying the calm. It let you think about how pitiful the battle had gone. Even with Frederick’s rigorous training, it wasn’t enough. Foot soldiers hardly stood a chance against Valm, a fact that made your head spin. How many lives would be lost before the battle ended?

“We’ve arrived, milady.” Frederick announced softly, slowing Hebert to a stop. “Have you fallen asleep?”

“No, I’m awake. Just thinking.” You responded in a murmur, Frederick slipping off Hebert before guiding you down. “I’ll be more than happy to find my cot, though.”

“I’ll have the tent set swiftly.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You did well, today. You deserve a good rest.” You smiled at his sweetness, a rare spectacle after battle. Perhaps it was because there were more lives on the line than yours alone.

“Oh, I prayed it wouldn’t be so…” You heard a familiar voice from behind, and turned to see Libra walking to you with a troubled expression. “Why have you come here?”

“To lead the army?” You joked, though it quickly faded when you saw how upset the man was.

“Have you forgotten? You are with child, Robin. You cannot simply-”

“Not so loud!!” You interrupted, “I-I’m aware, yes, and so is Frederick. We’re the only ones who know, and I’d like to keep it that way."

“You mean to bring your own child into battle? Surely, someone opposes this. Frederick had to have said something.” Libra protested, growing more worried the more your expression hardened.

“I understand how you feel. It wasn’t an easy decision, but imagine if that battle had transpired and I wasn’t there. How many lives would have been lost?”

The priest fell silent, knowing your reasoning was sound. “It’s too dangerous. If the battle is this harrowing now, imagine how worse it will be later. I cannot allow you to stay, Robin. As a doctor, priest, and friend.”

“I appreciate your concern, Libra.” You started carefully, an apologetic frown crossing your lips, “But I’ve already had this conversation with Frederick. We’ve decided to stay. The plan is to end the battle before the baby’s born. Personally, I’m aiming for the second trimester.”

“Three months is not enough to end a war, Robin.”

“If we don’t try, we’ll never know. If there were other tacticians to take my place I'd let them in a heartbeat, but we're not that lucky.” 

“We could look into it.” Libra sounded hopeful, but you knew better.

“I’m afraid not. I’m here, and there’s no going back. All we can do is end the war quickly. ...Right, Libra?” You checked, and he grimaced. This was the last thing he wanted.

“So, you wish for me to neglect my duties as healer, _and_ lie to our comrades?” Libra finally replied.

“It sounds horrible when you say it like that.” You joked lightly, but nodded all the same. “If you do this for me I’ll never ask anything of you again. I’ll owe you the world.”

“I am not one to hold debt over my friends.” He held a hand up as if to stop you, “But I will keep in mind you ‘owe’ me, this once.” You shrugged, and Libra bowed his head. “I will do as you wish, but I must keep watch over you. If you show even an inkling of exhaustion, I’m the first to know.” He stated, tone suggesting it was unnegotiable.

“Deal.” You relented with a relieved grin. Libra, seeming satisfied with your response, gave a quick goodbye and let you be. Frederick approached seconds after, much to your pleasant surprise.

“The tent is finished.” He informed you, linking arms with you and escorting you to said tent for some much needed recuperation. “Was that Libra speaking with you?”

“Yes. He’s less than pleased I decided to go through with this plan, not unlike you. He brought up every point you did in terms of why I shouldn’t be here.”

“And you chose to ignore the advice of even the priest, hm? I'd be concerned if you took his word over mine, however I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“No?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to ignore me.” He hinted at the ignorance of the Exalts.

“I’m sorry, Frederick,” You gave his arm a squeeze, “If it were any other situation I’d take you up on staying in bed and lazing about. Unfortunately a war is one of those situations I have to ignore you.”

“I'll make you regret that statement, my love.” He murmured, releasing you to open the tent, “For now, I suggest you remove your boots and belts. It would do good to loosen up.”

“I think I shall.” You did as you were told, gladly sinking onto the cot and relax. You hummed, closing your eyes and relishing the comfort.

“See? Not all my advice should be ignored.” He mused, removing his heavy armor and setting it to the side. You listened to the clanking metal, enjoying doing nothing. Despite the headache, woozy sensation in your legs and arms and exhaustion, you felt happy.

“A fact I appreciate.” You mumbled into the pillow. You heard him chuckle as he sat beside you, shifting the blankets around you. Calloused hands came to lift your legs onto his lap, earning a curious glance. That is, until he removed your stockings and massaged your feet. “Oh, yes...definitely appreciate.”

“You pushed yourself today, my sweet.” Frederick said in a soft tone, though you could hear the worry hiding behind it. “Walking miles to the port, and fighting as well? I can only imagine how you ache.”

“You never noticed during the Plegian War.” You pointed out with a mischievous smile. “You thought I could handle myself just fine.”

“You weren’t with child.” He responded. “We must ensure you take care of yourself. The less visits from Libra the better, if you’re intent on keeping things secret.”

“I know, but a little walking won’t do any harm. If anything it’s a good thing I’m sore; it means I’m getting stronger, right?”

“Or wearing yourself out. We don’t know what will happen while you’re carrying the baby. We must be careful to avoid any negative effects.”

“Hopefully that doesn’t mean you plan on playing the human shield every time we fight.” You murmured, making his ministrations pause. “You look out for yourself too, since you’re their father. I’d rather not raise our child explaining how their father died making a foolish decision.”

“I'm only protecting you.” He defended himself, switching from one foot to the other. You cracked an eye open.

“That doesn’t mean you get to put yourself in dangerous situations. We sank a boat, Frederick. The whole reason I came was to avoid brash moves, not cause more.”

“I apologize.” He finally replied. “I will not guarantee I won’t protect you at a moment’s notice, but I will work hard to avoid sinking ships.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” You were pleased with his promise, even more with the tender massage he bestowed upon you. He wasn’t wrong about being sore; your feet were killing you.

“Then I suggest you get some rest.” He leaned over to kiss your cheek, “Night will fall soon, and I want you to sleep whenever you get the opportunity.”

“What about council meetings and plans?”

“We’ll work around those. But I won’t allow you to stay up plotting when there’s rest to be had.” He pressed the rule on you. 

It wasn’t hard to tell he was under an awful amount of pressure, both self-imposed and dumped on him by outside forces (namely yourself). With a quiet sigh you agreed, slipping your feet from his grasp to curl around your pillow.

“All right, fine.” Your voice was muffled by the pillow, but Frederick gleefully heard you. “If you’re planning on helping in town, I suggest you go while I’m sleeping. Then, I won’t be tempted to come and assist.”

“We can’t have that.” He ran a hand through your hair, “I will be swift and return before you awaken.” He promised, gliding his fingers down the side of your face. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

With that, you slipped into a restful slumber you desperately needed. It was a dreamless sleep, which was fine after the day you’d had. While you weren’t sure how much rest you got, it was enough. You woke up to gray skies of a new morning, the sun hardly peaking over the horizon.

Frederick was fast asleep next to you. His back was turned in an attempt to keep from jostling you in your sleep. A groggy smile crossed your lips and you reached out to him, running your hand across his back.

Or so you intended.

Your action was cut short by a wave of nausea dominating your senses. Your hand froze when your stomach lurched, and it was go-time. Struggling to your feet, you escaped the tent before you vomited all over your husband and bedding. You stumbled towards the creek, grateful for the foliage as you emptied your stomach.

You took a shaky breath, grasping the trunk of a tree before you retched up the rest into a traumatized shrub. The unpleasant suffocation continued for a few more seconds before Naga and allowed you to sink to the grass and catch your breath.

 _'That was miserable.'_ You thought, staring blankly at the sky. Your throat burned, and you resisted the urge to swallow lest you taste the mess you deposited in the leaves. What you wouldn’t give for some water.

“...Robin?!” Frederick’s voice suddenly echoed from the trees, and you heard him crashing through the woods towards you. “Robin!”

“Eugh...g-good morning.” You managed to say hoarsely when he rushed to your side, grasping your shoulders the second he found you. His brow was creased with worry, pale as if he’d seen a ghost.

“What in Naga’s- Robin, are you all right? Gods, you’ve fallen ill!” He cried, pressing a hand to your forehead, then your cheek and neck. “What happened?”

“I-I just had a...surprise wake-up call…” You choked out. Frederick carefully picked you up and carried you to the creek. He settled you against him, then cupped his hands and scooped up precious water. 

“Please drink this. Careful, now.” He lifted the water to your lips, which you happily guzzled down. You closed your eyes against the healing sensation, taking a few more mouthfuls before he lifted you again.

“F-Frederick, I’m fine. I can walk on my own…” You tried to stop him, but Frederick shook his head. He strode through the woods clutching you tight to his chest, his body tense. 

“You are not to move until Libra tells us what's wrong. There's a possibility you’re exhausted, dehydrated, or worse. Perhaps a disease, or illness struck you at the port. Oh, what if you’ve been poisoned? A Valmese dart of some kind! Poison-tipped arrows, or some cruel device?”

“S-slow down…” You touched his chest in an attempt to calm him, practically bursting into the healing tent when you reached it.

“Libra! Are you here?” He called loudly, making you cringe. With that volume he may as well have woken the entire camp. Lucky for him the man was awake, and was taking inventory when you arrived.

“Sir Frederick? What can I do for you so early in the…” He trailed off at the sight of you in Frederick’s arms, and his expression grew cold. “What happened?”

“I found her collapsed in the woods.” Frederick explained curtly, taking you to the cot and placing you on it with cautious hands. “She was vomiting violently. I fear she has contracted an illness, or worse.”

“Vomiting, you say?” Libra murmured and placed a hand to your forehead. “You haven’t a fever.”

“Are you certain?” Frederick stepped forward, anxiety oozing off him. Libra nodded, turning to look at him with a tired smile.

“Fear not, friends. This is only a symptom of pregnancy. I believe you just experienced your first morning sickness, Robin.”

"'First'? Are you implying there are going to be more mornings like this?"

“Unfortunately, yes. It may carry through the pregnancy. Whether you experience it every morning or not is up to your body. However, it’s nothing to be concerned about; it’s simply a part of the process.” 

Libra said it with a light expression, but you felt opposite. Frederick was genuinely concerned, coming to sit next to you on the cot. “How will we keep this a secret from the rest of camp? Surely they 'll suspect something should they hear you...retching, every morning. Perhaps we should tell Lord Chrom-”

“-We’ll handle it.” You interrupted Frederick before he could speak. “I’ll wake up and run off wherever private. When we’re at sea it shouldn’t be difficult; I’ll play it off as sea sickness.”

“A clever cover.” Libra mused, knitting his fingers together, “If you’re fortunate, it will happen early in the morning. It would do well to have it before everyone else awakens. _If_ you’re intent on maintaining this secret, that is.”

“We are.” You chimed, though Frederick neglected to answer. You sighed, touching his hand. “Thank you, Libra. Frederick would've summoned the entire camp if you weren’t here.”

“It's the least I can do.” He bowed his head. “Sir Frederick, I believe you should take Robin back to the tent. She’ll need to recuperate after the trauma to her system, especially if we’re to negotiate today.”

“Understood.” Frederick gently looped his arms around you, lifting you to his chest once again. You were thankful for the warmth radiating from him, relishing the steady thrum of his heartbeat while he returned to the tent.

“...Are you upset?” You asked after a few moments of silence. “Don’t be upset.”

“I'm not upset, just...concerned.” He finally spoke, returning you to the tent and settling you into the bedding. “If there were any reason for me to be against this, your being sick every morning is taking priority.”

“It can’t be helped, dearest. Against this or not, I’m going through with it. If that means vomiting in the ocean for a few days, so be it.” 

“Must you be so stubborn?” He sighed.

You shrugged, a smile crossing your numb lips. “I learned from the best.”

“So it seems.” His tone remained grave, but gave in nonetheless, touching your cheek gently. “For now you must do as Libra says. Get some sleep, salvage what rest you can. I will begin my chores before anyone wakes and suspects something.”

“Will you be all right alone…?” You checked, considering how you helped him since before you were married.

“I was able to do it alone before. I am certainly capable of doing it now. Rest well, Robin.” He rose, leaving you be in the tent. You watched his stiff exit with tentative eyes.

That man was crumbling before you. Frustration radiated off his body, and you could tell his worrying was taking to new heights with every development in this troubled pregnancy. All you could do was hope the war would end quickly.


	5. Twist and Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A million things happened at once."

The road to Plegia was long and hot. There wasn’t as much tension surrounding you like there was two years ago, but a palpable unease replaced it. You weren’t sure if you preferred this anxiety over the other.

 _'I almost wish we didn’t have to go.'_ You thought with a grimace. Having to approach former enemies for help wasn’t a pleasant thought. But considering you were in a dangerous corner, you didn’t have alternatives.

The glares of civilians made you wish it so.

“Stay close to me, Robin.” Frederick murmured beside you, his horse acting as a wall from angry stares. “It seems we aren’t a welcome presence.” 

“Got it.” You replied in an equally soft voice. For a moment, it felt nostalgic.; surrounded by friends, Frederick protective as ever. You almost expected someone to crack a joke, or Sumia to trip over nothing. It would have been a great ease of tension, but not now.

“Tread carefully, everyone.” Chrom stated, his eyes fixed ahead, “There’s no telling how this will play out. The idea's to get what we need and go. Understood?”

Those within earshot nodded solemnly, the rest of your walk ending in front of the castle gates. Anyone would have felt intimidated by the gate looming over, but you forced yourself to stay strong. You wouldn’t allow yourself to feel fear.

“Lord Chrom,” A small servant greeted the party, bowing his head deeply. “King Validar awaits.”

The servant lead the Shepherds in, and you were quick to note how the place seemed to be crumbling. It was dark and gritty, sand pooling in far corners and dulling the once vibrant colors. Not the most pleasant place to call home.

Chrom turned to face the group that joined being a small portion of Shepherds. The expression on his face told you he was uneasy having others here.

“Lissa, I need you to take the others and go.” He whispered, and she immediately turned to him with an offended look.

“What do you mean? We can’t just go, we’re already-”

“I mean it, Lissa. We’ll regroup outside the city. You get the others back to camp and tell Flavia we’re continuing alone.” His order gave Lissa no room to argue. She glanced at you, then to Frederick and Sumia. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, suppressing the desire to fight him.

“...Fine.” She agreed, spiteful when she took Sumia’s arm, and motioned for the rest to follow. The lone servant continued to walk ahead, oblivious to the decreasing numbers. The team that joined you was now only you, Frederick and Chrom.

You murmured, “Any particular reason why we're doing this alone?”

"Something feels _off._ Whether it’s my opiniond about this country or not, it feels evil here.” His answer made you fall silent. He wasn’t the only one who felt anxious about the place.

Every bone in your body was screaming at you to get out, and as much as you wanted to listen your hands were tied. Besides, there was something about the king's name that had your mind whirring.

 _’Validar… Why does it sound familiar?’_ You questioned, but couldn't think much harder on it. For at that very moment the doors were pulled open. Who should be revealed but a face you knew all too well.

“An honor to finally meet you, sire. I am Validar, King Reagent of Plegia.”

Your heart stopped. You knew that man. You cut him down when he attacked the castle two years ago.

_’Emmeryn’s conspirator...?’_

~*~

A million things happened at once.

King Validar granted ships and gold, practically funding the campaign with a snap of his fingers. Chrom turned to you, knowing full well how familiar he was. Validar feigned ignorance, claiming he’d never met either of you when questioned. His eyes that said otherwise.

Before you could leave the place, someone was introduced to you. A hierophant who was so important you couldn't go until you met them. A woman, named Robin, who donned the same cloak, same hair, and the very same face as you.

She _was_ you.

Chrom dared question the situation, demanding to know why their hierophant was the same person as you. Aversa, the cowardly witch you hoped never to meet again dismissed it, claiming there was no time for such “trivial questions”. 

Now, as you lay in your cot with eyes wide open, those insane events rushed back to you. You sighed, staring at the tent wall. Frederick had already fallen asleep. You insisted he rest; spending the day wary of all surroundings was exhausting, after all.

Said fact was proven by him falling asleep minutes after lying with you. You peeked at him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. He'd taken the habit of falling asleep facing you, shrinking your desire to escape. Frederick wasn’t a heavy sleeper, and trying to sneak out wasn’t easy.

Your brain running a mile a minute convinced you to move, and you carefully wove out of Frederick’s hold. You could feel the air re-entering your lungs when you tiptoed out, wrapping the coat tighter in an attempt to retain your warmth against Plegia’s cold. You pushed yourself from bed and headed for the sparse forestry close to the edge camp. You didn’t stop until you were far enough away to feel alone. 

_’Finally…’_ You breathed, sitting down on a slab of stone and relaxing in the silence surrounding you. Your eyes closed against the gentle breeze, only to open a few seconds later. Every time your eyes fell shut, thoughts ran through your mind, flashing against your eyelids.

“...It’s no use.” You muttered, sighing in defeat. “I can’t sleep.” Speaking aloud curbed your whirling mind, and you leaned back. “Who was that woman? How could she and I share the same face? It’s so-”

_”Robin…”_

“-Strange.” You snapped up from where you sat, standing stiffly at the sound of a stranger’s voice. You peered into your surroundings, searching for the intruder. 

_”Heed me, Robin…”_

“Who’s there?!” You called into the darkness, brow furrowed when it remained empty. “Th-there’s no one. I’m...alone.”

_”Heed my call, Robin...”_

You cried out, doubling over when pain burst through your skull. You clutched your head, screaming when it intensified. Your vision blurred red.

“Nngh...th-this voice! This voice is...in my _head!_ Who are you?!” You shouted through the pain, hearing laughter echo in your mind. That wasn’t normal. “What’s happening?!”

The world shifted around you and a flash of magic brought your attention to the blurry plain. Purple robes appeared before you; a long, sneering face the only thing you could make out in the distorted dark. That, and the two red eyes that glowed like a Risen.

“Why do you close your heart to him, Robin?”

“V-Validar?” You croaked, recognizing the oozing malice in the king’s voice. He stepped closer to you, and it was all you could do to take one back. 

“Have you truly forgotten?” He questioned you, his voice resonating deep within your head. You grit your teeth to dampen the shouts of pain, determined to keep your whits about you.

“You were...calling me… Augh! My head…!!” Easier said than done. Your heart pounded in your chest, blood pumping through your veins as the world spun faster and faster. “Get out of my mind!”

He snickered, as if amused by your plight. “Such arrogance! You dare take such a tone...with your own father?!”

“M-my what?” You gasped, brow furrowed against the dangerous throbbing of your brain.. “That’s not true…!!”

“You are of my flesh, but of sacred blood!” His voice grew louder, moving closer. “You are to serve a glorious purpose! Search deep within. It is your destiny.”

“No… Get...out...” You wheezed, turning from him. 

“Why resist, Robin? Your place is at my side, not with these fools! Give yourself to Grima!” His claws grasped your head, and you screamed. All you felt was pain. “Let me join your strength to the fell dragon!” 

The world grew dark, fading and crumbling as if you were being transported. Your eyes squeezed shut, tears falling the stronger the pain became. 

“Robin!!” Chrom’s shout was distorted and quiet in your ears, barely registering his footfalls. Validar’s hand released you with a growl.

“Pah! Not this fool prince...” He snapped, attention returning to you for a moment. “No matter. In time you will see the truth. And that is all it will be-” Validar’s body glowed, flashing white. “A matter of time.”

As suddenly as he came, Validar was gone. Your headache throbbed, but not as terrible as before. Your fingers slowly eased against your skull, eyes cracking open as the pain ebbed away. You felt Chrom’s hands on your shoulders, the static of his voice forming into words.

“Robin, are you all right? I heard you shouting- I thought there was an attack.” He said in a grim tone. You sucked in a sharp breath, groaning when the headache finally dissipated.

“I...think so.” Your hands trembled when they fell, a detail Chrom didn’t miss even when you pasted a calm facade over the pain. “Yes, Chrom. I’m...fine.” 

Chrom scoffed. “‘Fine’ is a poor choice of words! What happened?” He demanded softly, and you pursed your lips. Even if this was Chrom, you weren’t sure he’d believe you. “Robin…?”

“...Validar, he… He spoke to me, in my mind.” You breathed out, and you could see the disbelief creeping into his eyes. “He said I was his...his _daughter…”_

“What?! ...Is this true?” He questioned, eyes wide. At least he believed you. You shrugged, looking down.

“I-I’m not sure. I don’t know. But...I also don’t know it’s a lie. To be honest, I felt a strange connection between us. He reminded me of someone I saw in a dream, long ago.” You admitted, and Chrom fell silent. He took your hand and lead you to the rock you’d sat on before, gently pushing you down.

“That could make sense. That hierophant, she looked exactly like you, didn’t she? Could she be the king’s daughter as well? ...Are you twins?”

That made your brain start. It was possible; same face, same voice… It was like looking into a mirror. Perhaps she was, but you had no memory of a sibling.

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, Chrom. I can’t remember…” Your fingers slipped into your lap again, “But if I’m being honest...it would explain much.” Despite that being true, it was an explanation you wish you never heard. You sighed, “I’m not sure I want to know the truth, anymore…”

Chrom stepped closer, grasping your hand. “You are yourself before any man’s daughter, Robin.” His firm tone returned your gaze to him, eyes burning straight to your heart. “Remember that.”

“...Thank you, Chrom.” You finally replied, forcing a smile onto your lips. He was happy to return it, squeezing your hand.

“You’re welcome. Now, we should see to getting back. Can you walk?” He checked, lifting you to your feet.

“I think so.” You attempted, your mirth dying when you looked towards camp. A very familiar set of armor was shined towards you, and you made out Frederick’s face in the dark.

“Frederick…?” You stared up at him when he reached you both, jaw set and pale. An alarming streak of blood trailed down the side of his face, yet he didn’t seem to notice.

“Milord, we are under attack! Risen have encircled the camp!” He informed Chrom, making both of you gasp. 

“That can’t be possible, we posted sentries! How did this happen?”

“They made a stealthy approach, milord. I’ve never seen Risen behave like this. It was a lucky thing to have spotted them at all. ...Either they’re learning our ways, or someone is controlling them.” Frederick grimaced. You frowned when he finished, having a fair idea who was behind it.

“Validar!” Chrom voiced your thought, “This is his doing, I’m sure of it. Equip anyone who can bear arms, and get them ready. Tonight, we fight for our lives.” 

Chrom took off, shouting orders to rally troops. In the distance you could see smoke, hearing roars of Risen echo beyond the treeline. They needed your help, especially if it was a sneak attack. But when you moved to join the fight, Frederick caught your arm.

“Robin, wait.”

“What are you doing? We have to go fight!”

“What are _you_ doing out here?” He countered, grip tightening on your shoulder. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? When the Risen attacked and you were missing, I...I assumed the worst.”

A pang of guilt struck you when you realized what happened. If he had done the same you would be in hysterics, thinking your husband dead. You looked up at him apologetically, noticing how worried he looked. 

“I’m sorry, Frederick. I didn’t mean to leave like that, I was… I-I just couldn’t sleep.” You attempted to explain. He sighed, his hand slipping off your shoulder. There was something hiding behind the urgency in his eyes, and you could see it; utter disappointment in you. “Frederick-”

“-We'll talk later. I will listen to your explanation after we take care of the Risen, but for now it would be best to focus on the matter at hand.” He stopped you, starting for the battlefield. “You _will_ stay close to me, understand?”

“I…” The intense glare he wore convinced you to accept his terms. “All right.”

At your response he took your hand and pulled you towards the camp, body tense with anxious worry. You had a feeling this invasion was only the beginning of a long battle ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, this is another exposition-heavy chapter! Though it would have been much worse if I included the dialogue at Plegia castle. Worry not, there'll be much more interesting content in the next chapter! :')


	6. The Frustration Festering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Having him ignore you in the fight made you want to curl up and question life as a whole."

You wore a dark expression when you returned, but you assured him you were all right. He didn’t buy it, of course, but opted to keep his mouth shut. He had suspicions of his own, what with Validar's insane devotion to Grima and the heirophant that looked disturbingly similar to his wife. Whatever you were troubled with, you’d tell him about sooner or later. He just hoped sooner would come, well, soon. 

Until then, he made sure you both retired to bed early in the evening. Unfortunately, it didn't last. 

Late into the night Frederick jolted awake, someone bursting into the tent. The notion of a good night’s rest was completely destroyed by four words: 

"Risen have invaded camp!!” 

Frederick’s eyes widened, heart beating painfully fast; how did Risen find them? More importantly, how could they have invaded camp without anyone noticing? 

Whatever the reason, he couldn’t worry about it now. His hand fell to your side, expecting to grasp your shoulder. “Robin, I need you to take Princess Lissa and get to the- ...Robin?” 

Nothing. Frederick’s brow furrowed, a drop of sweat sliding down his face. You weren’t in the bedroll. Glancing around, he realized you weren’t even in the tent. 

“Robin??” He called louder, jumping to his feet. You were nowhere to be found. Fear spiked through his body, a rush of adrenaline driving him forward. He snapped on armor immediately, grabbing his lances and bursting from the tent to find you. 

_What he got instead was a horde of Risen lurching around the camp. The sinking feeling in his chest worsened. Frederick grit his teeth and launched himself into attack, taking apart as many as he could._

__

__

How could they have gotten into camp without anyone knowing? A scout should’ve caught sight of them. There was something strange going on, and whatever reason he could think of, he didn’t like. Though conspiracies were the least of his concerns. 

"Robin!!” He shouted, unleashing his wrath on monsters. He needed to find Chrom and alert him you were missing. If anyone knew anything it’d be him, but that was the problem; he had yet to show up. Either Chrom was sleeping hard as usual, or missing. He hoped it was the former. 

"Lord Chrom, I-!” Hopes were dashed when he reached the empty tent, and the icy fear went arctic. Frederick swiveled around and raced to find other soldiers, asking in a flurry if they’d seen either of you. 

"Has anyone seen Lord Chrom??” He shouted to the group, a number of them slowly being encircled by Risen. For every decapitated or impaled Risen, a flurry took its place. As if he wasn’t scared enough already. 

"Calm down, man spawn.” Panne suddenly leapt in beside him, deflecting an attack from a Berserker. “I heard Chrom leave for the forest a few moments ago. He was looking for Robin.” 

He stabbed another Risen. “Where did they go?” 

"Beyond the treeline to a clearing north of here. You should hurry; we can only hold them off with blind luck for so long.” She sounded droll tearing into Risen flesh. While it was unsettling to be fighting alongside a giant beast, he swallowed the discomfort to focus. 

"Help me cut a path through the Risen, and I’ll retrieve them!” He ordered. It took a while to break through, but he felt lighter battling through the zombies. Panne leapt in, both of them tearing down the numbers. 

The moment he was free he raced for the forest. His jaw was tight and lance gripped dangerously tight in his hands, fighting to find you. While he was relieved knowing you were safe, there were still a million questions whirring around his mind. 

"Robin! Lord Chrom…!” His voice echoed through the trees unanswered. Panne wasn’t lying to him, but why couldn’t he find either of you? “Milord!!” 

It was seconds before he caught sight of blue hair, and standing close by was the your coat. “Oh, thank the gods.” He breathed, turning on his heel and charging towards you both. 

You noticed him first; whispering his name when he rushed up, unaware of how awful he looked until deep concern drew across your face. He paid it no mind, taking Chrom’s attention. 

“Milord, we are under attack! Risen have encircled the camp!” He stated. 

“That can’t be possible, we posted sentries! How did this happen?" 

"They must have made a stealthy approach, milord. I’ve never heard of Risen behaving like this. It was a lucky thing to have spotted them at all. ...Either they’re learning our ways, or someone is controlling them.” Frederick grimaced. Chrom clenched his fists, and you frowned deeply. It almost surpassed Frederick's in terms of sheer displeasure. 

“Validar!” Chrom voiced your thought, “This is his doing, I’m sure of it. Equip anyone who can bear arms, and get them ready. Tonight, we fight for our lives.” 

_Chrom took off ahead of you, giving Frederick the opportunity to speak with you. He didn’t allow you to pursue, instead catching your arm when you tried to follow after him. Were you seriously going to ignore the fact you blatantly abandoned him in the middle of the night?_

"Robin, wait.” 

"What are you doing? We have to help fight!” 

You were. He pulled you closer, grasping your shoulder. "What are _you_ doing out here?” He countered, grip tightening on your shoulder. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? When the Risen attacked and you were missing, I...I assumed the worst.” He admitted, your face falling when he replied.

"I’m sorry, Frederick. I didn’t mean to leave you like that, I was… I-I just couldn’t sleep.” You murmured, and he resisted the urge to shout at you. He was trying to protect you every second of the day since the war began. His only wish was to keep you safe both in battle and camp; running off because you “couldn’t sleep” was a weak excuse, let alone inexcusable. 

_He averted his gaze and released you, keeping his feelings barred. His eyes gave him away though, and he could feel you coming closer. “Frederick-”_

“-We will talk about this later. I will be more than happy to listen to your explanation after we take care of the Risen, but right now it would be best to focus on the matter at hand.” He interrupted you, starting for the battlefield. “And you _will_ stay close to me, understand?”

_”I… All right.” You agreed, and he felt something akin to relief. His hand closed around your wrist before starting for the battlefield, concerned about the number of shouts growing. You two would definitely talk about this later._

~*~

You hit battle, grouping soldiers together and destroying Risen that remained. They were ripped apart after you and Chrom entered the fray.

“Chrom, take the one on the bridge!! We’ll follow!!” You ordered from Frederick’s side, him having recovered Hebert when the stalls were released from Risen’s grasp.

Chrom took off for the bridge, Sumia covering him from the air while Kellam, Ricken and Stahl managed the arrows. You weren’t far from victory, yet you still felt heavy. 

You knew it had to do with Frederick’s lingering frustration. You’d given him a scare, for certain. Despite apologizing he seemed more upset, which made you even more anxious; he always forgave you, _always._

Having him ignore you in the fight made you want to curl up and question life as a whole.

“How close are we to finishing this battle?” You heard Lon’qu growl nearby, “There are more here than I’ve ever seen before.”

"The second we take out the leader, it’ll be over.” You assured him. “I need you to cover Chrom. The sooner he’s there, the better!”

“Then we should make haste.” Frederick suddenly pulled you up, hoisting you onto Hebert not unlike Port Ferox. You tensed at the contact, letting him place you behind him and kick the horse into high gear.

“R-right.” You stammered, holding on for dear life when Hebert leapt onto rocks, reaching high ground faster each second. If you didn’t fall off it would be a miracle.

You passed Lon’qu, who ran with Lissa towards the others who closed in on the bridge. Relief washed over you, knowing the assault would be over soon. Then you could deal with the Frederick issues. Those seemed to be piling up as of late.

“Chrom, his left!!” You shouted, readying Thoron as you closed in. The Exalt sprinted up the opposite end, Falchion poised to strike. A brilliant crack of lightning struck in perfect harmony with the sword.

The battle ended.

Chrom pulled the sword from its chest, watching it dissipate into nothing. You carefully slid off Hebert’s back to meet him. “That’s the last of them. Gods, I thought it might never end.”

Or so you thought.

A burst of magic flashed behind Chrom, the same circle Validar used when he “spoke” to you. A huge Risen rose, arms above its head with an axe ready to fall.

“Chrom, look out!!” You shouted, sprinting forward.

"Robin, _don't!"_ Frederick lurched forward, trying to stop you. Chrom swiveled around, caught in the monster’s shadow.

“Gods-!” He tried to pull out his sword, but it was too late. The axe fell. You screamed.

“Father!!”

Your eyes widened in shock when the girl jumped forward, watching Lucina take your place and defeat the Risen. You stood stock still until someone yanked you back, Frederick pulling you behind him.

The Risen was gone. 

"Robin, are you all right?” Frederick gripped your shoulders, “What were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself injured, didn’t you think about that?” You stared at him in disbelief. 

“What are you talking about? Chrom was about to get killed, I had to do something!!”

“Obviously not, Lady Lucina seemed to have everything under control! Yet you continued on, and-”

“-Speaking of Lady Lucina.” Chrom interrupted Frederick before he embarrassed you further, “I think there is an explanation, of some kind.”

The woman in question had all eyes on her. She gripped the Mirror Falchion tighter. Chrom’s eyes narrowed, looking at her suspiciously.

“W-what is it you wish to know?”

“Why did you call me ‘Father’?”

“That...is not so easily explained.” Lucina responded. Frederick sighed, stepping forward. 

“Perhaps it would be best saved for after camp is repaired. There are wounded in need of care, among other things.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You sighed softly, pushing aside the obviously heated debate that was about to transpire in public. “Although I would like to hear about this as well. It seems like it's of some importance.”

“I’m not against it, but I want to speak with him, first.” She gestured to Chrom, who agreed to her terms without missing a beat. While Frederick seemed less compliant, you returned to camp. Frederick excused himself to clean up debris and repair fallen tents, while you busied yourself with supplies on the other end.

There was palpable tension between you and you weren’t sure how to resolve it. To be honest, you weren’t in the mood to. 

Too much happened in one day. After Lucina’s appearance, you had a feeling it was about to get more hectic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, busy week! Sorry for the lack of content, but it's been crazy over here and I haven't had much time or focus to be able to write this. More coming in the next chapter, and I will definitely make it longer!


	7. Whispered Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thinking back to Validar, it wasn’t something you wanted to concern him with. The look on his face suggested you’d have to, anyways."

Slowly but surely the camp recovered. Nobody bothered returning to bed; there were plenty of things to take care of. You busied yourself in the medical tent, and Frederick took to clearing debris...on the other side of camp. You were thankful for space; after the tension built, distance was welcomed with open arms. At least, until Libra intervened. He came behind you while restocking vulnaries, clearing his throat.

“This is a pleasant surprise; I thought for sure your husband would accompany you.” He mused, noting the your glare. “I'm assuming there’s been a disagreement?”

“Of a sort, yes.” You murmured, taking some staves and carrying them across the tent. “I think I worried him too much, this time.”

“Any man would be worried if his wife was with child,” Libra responded, “And, of course, fighting a war.”

“Yes, I’ve gathered that might be a bad combination.” You huffed, setting the staves aside, “However, that’s not the whole problem.”

“No?” He glanced at you, expecting an explanation. You mulled over your response; whether you should tell him weighed heavy in your mind. The priest was worried enough already. Who were you to put last night on him, too? Besides, being a priest of Naga he might not appreciate hearing about Grima and/or Plegia.

“...It’s nothing you need to worry over. Perhaps after I’ve spoken to Frederick, I’ll tell you.” You decided. Seeming satisfied with you he returned to his work, tending another soldier’s wounds. It didn’t last when he glanced up, another man entering the tent.

“Good morning, Sir Frederick.” You near dropped the staff in your hands. “I trust the camp has been taken care of?”

“We’ve cleared up what we could. All that’s left is dressing the wounds.” His voice rang clear, but you could hear his exhaustion.

“Then I’ll direct you to Robin; it seems you’ve taken a few more hits than usual.” Libra said with a smile, and you considered throwing the staff at his head. So much for space.

“Understood.” Without another word the knight came to you, your tense stature setting the stage for what was sure to be uncomfortable for you both.

“Um, here...come sit.” You managed, guiding Frederick to one of the cots. He complied silently, watching as you procured alcohol and gauze. Then you sat beside him, treating the cuts.

The tension was so thick you could hardly breathe.

Small fingers worked around Frederick’s face, carefully cleaning incisions that decorated his face. A tender one below his lip made him grimace, and you frown. It was unlike him to take hits, even when you weren’t fighting with him.

“It seems the Risen did more damage than usual.” You said softly, finding words to speak. You were still working on eye contact.

“They were stronger than before.” Frederick sighed, brown eyes boring into you while you worked. It made you even more uncomfortable. “That, and...I had other things to worry about.”

“I see.” You mumbled a whisper that anyone else would’ve missed. Your hand came up to his cheek, tenderly rubbing away blood. “...I must apologize, then. It wasn’t my intention to worry you.”

“I don’t want an apology.” Frederick’s voice was low when he caught your hand, stopping your work and forcing you to look at him. Where you thought there'd be anger, you found despondency and confusion. “I want to know why you left. What happened when you were with Lord Chrom?”

“That’s...not easily explained.” You sighed, your hand slipping from his and into your lap. He watched you quietly, waiting for you to continue. Thinking back to Validar, it wasn’t something you wanted to concern him with. The look on his face suggested you’d have to, anyways.

“I was...visited, by Validar last night.” You finally spoke, and his expression didn’t move. He blinked slowly, wondering what in the world you meant. Another sigh left your lips, a hand run through your hair. “Rather, it was a vision he used to communicate with me, i-in my mind. I’m not sure how, but he spoke to me. H-he disappeared when Chrom came, when he heard me in the woods.”

“Lord Chrom had mentioned you’d been...screaming.” Frederick said lowly, his hand closing around yours. “Did Validar attack you?”

“I-in a manner of speaking, yes. It felt like my head was splitting open, frankky. But I feel it was only a side effect of his communication.”

“Are you all right?” He asked, his fingers gingerly brushing against your face. 

“I’m fine. What bothers me is what he _said;_ something about Grima. A-about our bloodline.”

“Our?” He repeated the word with an even deeper frown, and your lips drew into a thin line. “...Robin?”

“He said he was my father.” You choked out, and Frederick’s hand clenched around yours. He gripped you tightly, breath hitching at the revelation. 

“That's impossible.” He immediately shot it down, “He would've said something before, surely. And why would he try to kill us after meeting us, knowing you were his daughter?”

“Perhaps the hierophant has something to do with it.” You figured, rubbing your chin thoughtfully. “As an insurance, maybe? ...I’m not sure why he wouldn’t have approached before, but having a mirror image of me with him must have something to do with it. Though that raises the question as to why he’d come after me, now.”

“...At least I can understand why you couldn’t sleep.” He said when he finally spoke again, releasing your hand to clasp his together. “Anyone trying to think through so many things would have trouble doing anything.”

“I certainly don’t enjoy thinking on it, for sure.” You agreed, putting away the medical supplies and standing from the cot. “But it’s over, now. You found me and we took care of the enemy, and Validar’s nowhere to be found. I think we can write this off as a victory.”

“I wouldn’t dismiss it so easily, milady.” Frederick said with unease, standing with you. “Who’s to say Validar won’t attack again? What if he tries to split your head open again?”

“I doubt he was actually _trying_ to split my head.”

“Even so…” He trailed off, gently guiding your gaze to his, “We cannot be too careful. I will be beside myself if I allow such an attack to befall you again. Even more so if you fall into a dangerous situation like last night. Throwing yourself into battle after suffering an attack from _him?_ You’re deliberately trying to worry me, aren’t you?”

“I’m just trying to do my job.” You reminded him, making him sigh through his nose. “I don’t mean to worry you. Perhaps I shouldn’t have tried to save Chrom from the Risen, but what if Lucina hadn’t appeared? We’d have lost another Exalt.”

“Or my entire family.” He reminded you, fingers tentatively ghosting over your womb. A warm, tingling sensation washed over you from his touch, informing you of what you had to lose. “I admire your desire to protect, but you mustn’t forget what _my_ job is, either.”

“How could I when you remind me nearly every day?” You joked, earning the tiniest smile from your ever-serious husband. His head dipped in a curt nod, letting you go for only a moment to leave the tent.

“Come, then. Lord Chrom has requested our presence. Lady Lucina wishes to speak.” He informed you, and you trailed after him.

“Really? Why didn’t you say something before?” You asked, incredulous he’d tell you such things _after_ letting you treat minor wounds and explain away the evening. 

_’...Or perhaps I just answered my own question.’_ You thought to yourself, judging by Frederick’s lack of response you were correct. So you followed him to the council’s tent, quick to enter and take your place. Flavia and Basilio were first to welcome you, Chrom and Lucina already there. One was a bit worse for wear than the other; it seemed that Lucina had been crying; over what, you weren’t sure.

“Is this everyone?” You gestured to the six of you, and Chrom nodded. 

“Then if we’re all here, I’d like to listen to the girl’s explanation.” Basilio stated loudly, returning everyone’s attention to the woman of the hour. “It seems there’s an interesting story, and I for one would love to hear it.”

“I’ve got some explaining to do.” Lucina agreed, voice softer. The strong youth was distracted by something, yet there was a smile on her face. Slowly, she came to the center. Chrom squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. 

“The stage is yours.” You smiled, allowing her to speak. And speak she did.

“I come from a different time. The future, actually. One where...the Fell Dragon has taken over, and destroyed everything.”

Everyone stared.

“...Well, I didn’t think I’d hear a story like _that.”_ Basilio commented. 

Flavia rolled her eyes. “For all we know she could just be saying things. How are we supposed to believe that, huh? What’s your proof of this so-called future?”

“I have two.” Lucina countered, drawing her sword. “This Falchion belonged to my father, the Exalt. B-before he was killed, this is what he left me.” 

You stared at the sword with wide eyes; it was perfectly identical to Chrom’s blade. And then they narrowed, piecing together her words.

“If your father left you Falchion, then...t-that would make Chrom…”

“Her father.” Said blunette spoke for you, unsheathing his sword as well and holding it parallel to Lucina’s. “They’re exactly alike, which confirms she’s not lying.”

“Not yet.” Frederick interrupted, holding up his hand. “Where is the rest of your ‘proof’? It’s possible someone replicated Falchion’s design. You could be a spy, hair dyed blue and a fake sword to do your master’s dirty work.”

Lucina was unphased, meeting his gaze evenly. “If it’s not enough, look to my left eye; there is the Mark of the Exalt. I’m sure it will suffice.” She brushed the hair from her face, and you looked carefully.

“...Oh, gods. She’s right.” You breathed, staring at her eye. The brand was emblazoned against her iris, just like Chrom’s shoulder. Your mind was effectively blown. You glanced up at Frederick, touching his hand. “I suppose you’ve an explanation for this, as well? Perhaps a curse, or hex of some kind?”

“I am afraid not.” He begrudgingly admitted, making you grin. Lucina returned to her father. “If that's the case, how is it you’ve come here?”

“It’s a long story, but simply put, it was Naga; she opened a portal to this dimension, allowing us to come in an attempt to save this future. Unfortunately, Grima sent henchman of her own, as well.” She grimaced, but continued with, "Nevertheless, Naga gave us a chance to correct the future, and we took it. Now that we’re here, we'll fix things for the better.”

“And you’ve a plan to do that?” Flavia questioned. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the midst of war. Any chances for ‘correcting the future’ are a bit dim.”

“That’s not true.” Lucina countered. “This gives us the perfect opportunity to cross into Valm. There’s someone we need to speak with there; the Voice of Naga.” Lucina announced.

"You want us to awaken the Voice?” Flavia repeated, sounding as unconvinced as everyone else looked, “But she’s been sleeping for centuries! How are we supposed to get ahold of her?”

“She will wake when we need her. All we have to do is get to her. We were able to do it in the future.- we’ll be able to here, as well.”

“...If you believe it’s possible, then I do.” Chrom said firmly, his trusting countenance easing the tension in the room, save for Frederick's. 

“Milord, surely you don’t think this plan is wise.” He said, once again the voice of pessimistic reason. “We’re about to clash with the Valmese on _their_ soil. I feel it would be wisest to focus on the matter at hand, and worry about the future when it comes.”

“If the future Lucina fears comes as a result of how this war ends, we _have_ to focus on changing it while we fight. I assure you, our focus is on the battle. We just have to take steps to ensure we don’t make the same mistakes as we did in the future.”

“And taking a stranger’s word is the answer?” Frederick deadpanned.

“She’s not as strange as you might think, Frederick.” Chrom reassured him, “Besides, the Voice is in the middle of our war path. It wouldn’t hurt to visit and see what she has to say, don’t you think?” 

“I...suppose not.” He admitted. You offered a small smile and a squeeze of his hand before clapping yours together.

“Then we move for the Port and take the sea tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Works for me.” Basilio laughed heartily, grabbing his axe and beckoning Flavia to come with him. “We’ll notify the troops and get ready to go. ‘Bout time we hit the sea. I’ve been achin’ to smash some heads together!”

“You did when we hit the Port, idiot.” Flavia grumbled, but followed him all the same. You stayed behind, approaching the curious young woman.

“Lucina?” She turned at her name, “I'd like to ask you something.” 

“Please do.” She offered a small smile. 

“I noticed how you said ‘we’ and ‘us’ instead of talking about yourself. I was wondering if you could explain, a little.” You said, motioning awkwardly, “Are there… _more_ of you, from the future?”

“Indeed there are.” Lucina laughed and nodded, “Children of Father’s friends and allies Naga allowed to join us, came on this journey, as well.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened, heart pumping harder when she continued. Her gaze switched between you and Frederick when she added,

“Yes. And among them is _your_ son, Morgan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to speed through plenty of the story, there is so much I want to get done and I've barely touched on! And to think we're already seven chapters in >:'U  
> I hope this chapter makes up for last week's absence! Thanks for understanding!


	8. Sea Road Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You allowed him to settle you down, succumbing to exhaustion."

The two of you sat there, dumbfounded. You were in your tent, supposedly preparing for the Sea Road. After Lucina’s revelation, all you could do to walk _to_ your tent. Frederick was as stunned as you, staring at the ground. A million questions whirred in both minds.

“So…” You finally found some quiet words, “We have a son...named Morgan.”

Frederick shook his head in disbelief. “A son.” 

“I wonder what he looks like.” You murmured, fingers touching the bump under your cloak. Frederick’s eyes locked onto your hand, watching as they pressed your skin. “Maybe he’s...I _hope_ he’s tall, like you, and has your hair.”

A hand came to his brunette mop. “My hair?”

“I think it looks nice.” You replied, kicking your legs. “It’s a nice color.”

“I see.” He murmured. “W-well, I hope he has your nose.” 

“I always thought my nose looked funny.” You scoffed with a tilt of your head. “It’d be cuter if he had yours.”

“At the very least he should have your eyes.” Frederick offered, “With such a vibrant color, one would hope he'd inherit them.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that.” You blushed, feeling lighter. Frederick gave a small smile, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“I speak earnestly. Though we can only know once we meet before knowing what he’ll be like.” 

“I hope Morgan’s all right.” You mumbled. His hand slid to yours, entwining your fingers.

“If he’s our son, I’m sure he is. Wait until we find him; you'll see.” 

You squeezed his hand. “You think we will? I don’t even know where to look- Lucina appears randomly and comes alone. Whatever places there are to look, I don’t know what they'd _be.”_

“We’ll figure that out when the time comes.” His lips pressed against your temple. “Who’s to say we won’t cross paths on the battlefield?”

“That’s the last place I want to find him.” You said with an expression that mirrored his feelings.

“Whatever happens, we’ll see. Until then, I believe you have the perfect opportunity to get some rest before we return to Port. We’ve a long week ahead, don’t we?” He pointed out, gently pushing you onto the cot. You allowed him to settle you down, succumbing to exhaustion.

“It’s been a long day.” You murmured half-heartedly, the day's events happening in a blur. Frederick nodded, stroking your hair sweetly.

“I’ll join Lord Chrom and the others to finish preparing for the trip. If anyone asks, you have a minor headache.” 

“Sounds good.” You confirmed, turning on your side and nuzzling the pillow with a happy sigh. Frederick watched you with gentle fondness, his hand slipping gently from your hair to your waist.

“Sleep well, Robin. And...you too, Morgan.” 

You froze when his words lingered, glancing back at him when he left the tent. Your fingers landed where his were, unable to hold back the smile on your lips. 

_'Honestly, Frederick...how sweet can you be?’_ He was so considerate of the baby. You looked down at your tummy with a grin; despite all the trouble brewing, there was happiness in your chest.

He was going to be the best father ever. The attachment he had was already strong, and you hadn’t even met Morgan yet. You hoped you could hold up to him, as a mother.

~*~

Unfortunately, parenthood had to wait. The morning sickness became unbearable the second you landed on that ship. You spent the first three hours on deck, vomiting what little food you ate, and whatever was left.

The mornings repeated themselves for the following two weeks.

Frederick tried to stay with you, though he had other duties. The time was filled with your husband and Libra swapping places, making sure you were well.

“And I thought it was bad the first time.” You groaned, knees buckling as the ship swayed under you yet again. You normally wouldn’t have a problem with riding ocean waves. Morgan seemed to feel differently, hence your confinement to the deck and attempting to survive while the world rocked around.

“Heya, Robbie!!” 

“H-Henry…?” You glanced back to see him striding up, interrupted by the grin on his face. “W-what are you doing...here?”

“I figured I’d stop by and say hello! It’s weird to see you all alone, so I thought I’d keep you company!”

“T-that’s because it’s four in the morning...everyone’s asleep. _I’m_ not supposed to b-be awake.” You grumbled. Frederick had been sent off that morning to find some water, and perhaps Libra if he passed by, leaving you with a baby and the sea. 

At least until the suspicious ally appeared. Said white-haired man came to your side, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Then what’re you doing here? That’s just weird, y’know.”

"You _would_ know.” You muttered, closing your eyes against the wave of nausea caused by his sudden movement. “I’m a bit under the weather.”

“That’s weird! I heard you could handle all sorts of crazy stuff when you fought in the Plegian war! There’s no way a little ship would make ya feel bad!”

“You’d be surprised what some people can and can't handle.” Your response made Henry chuckle and shrug.

“Well, if you want, I could give you a hex! Then you don’t have to worry about getting sick!”

“The last thing I need’s a hex, Henry.” You groaned, “But thanks all the same. ...I think.”

“Nya ha! Sure! Anything to help out our tactician! It’s no good when you feel down. Then everybody else feels down! Even me, and I’m never down!”

“That’s why everyone’s wary of you.” You cracked, though it didn’t last when a familiar hand rested on your shoulder, pulling you behind a familiar husband.

“Perhaps _I_ being the wariest of all.” Frederick said solemnly, glaring at the man who greeted him with a chuckle and a grin. “Why are you awake at this hour, Henry? And why are you socializing with Robin?”

“I’m a light sleeper, is all!” Henry giggled, “It’s hard to stay asleep when someone’s upchucking a floor above you!!”

“We’d prefer you keep that detail under wraps.” Frederick sighed, “It’d be in your best interest not to mention her sickness to others.”

“Why not?”

“For the good of the army, naturally.” Frederick responded smoothly. “Morale hasn’t been very high for weeks. It wouldn’t do for them to hear their tactician has fallen ill.”

“I guess I get that.” Henry agreed. “You better make sure you get it under control soon, Robin! Who knows how long you’ll be able to keep that secret before people catch on? But my offer still stands if you’d like a quick fix!”

“His ‘offer’?” Frederick asked you, and you tilted your head.

“More like ‘request to hex’.” He bristled at your response, glaring accusingly at Henry. 

“Aww, that’s not what I meant!” Henry pouted playfully, but Frederick turned him away. “C’mon, Frederick! I’m not gonna hex her unless she wants me to!”

“There will be no hexing anyone, understand? Lest you be dropped off this ship!”

“I get it, I get it! Geez, someone’s uptight.” Henry snickered, slipping away from Frederick’s unforgiving grasp and heading for the barracks. "If you ever want quick relief with little to medial side effects, lemme know!”

“Perhaps when all nine hells freeze over.” You laugh tiredly, impressed by his positivity even in the face of Frederick. He turned to you with a much less amused expression, passing you the small bucket of water.

“I’d prefer if you limited contact with him. He doesn’t seem...trustworthy.” Frederick murmured. 

“I didn’t ‘seem particularly trustworthy’ when we met, either.” You pointed out, and his jaw tensed. “I don’t think he’s too bad. More pleasant to be around than I was.”

“You weren’t offering to hex people every turn of the corner. Besides, that smile is unsettling.”

“You’ve got a point.” You agreed, leaning against the railing once the water was gone. Frederick’s hand came to your back to steady you. “...I’m just ready to get off this boat.”

“You mean you didn’t enjoy blowing the Valmese fleet to the heavens?” You chuckled at the off-hand comment, leaning against your husband in one of the few peaceful moments you were granted.

“It was an interesting highlight, for sure. I’m just ready for solid ground. ...So ready.”

“Rest assured, my sweet. I’ve reviewed the coordinates with Lord Chrom; it won’t be long before we’re there. However, I should warn you there’s a chance we’ll be subjected to battle.”

“I thought so.” You grimaced at the thought of battle. From one port to another, there wasn’t opportunity for rest. “We’ll be ready when it comes. I’ve got a few maneuvers up my sleeve we could use in case we’re struggling. I’ve also stormed up a couple in case there’s an unexpected arrival.”

“Unexpected arrival?” Frederick’s brow furrowed, and you shrugged, picking at the chipped wood of the bucket. Your lips quirked in a bashful smile, gaze cast out to the sea.

“In case we run into someone who might need our help. A refugee, or an endangered civilian. After the battle at Ferox’s port there’s no telling who could get involved. ...Besides, there’s also a chance that we could find _Morgan_.”

“I see.” His voice grew soft, his hand moving from your waist to your shoulder. “And you suppose we’ll find him there?”

“I’m not sure, but you can never be too prepared.” You reasoned. “But you have to admit it’d be great if we _did_.”

“I wouldn’t describe finding our son in the middle of battle as 'great', but I suppose it would be good to meet him.”

“I know you’d be at his side in an instant. Freddybear would protect his cub to the ends of the earth!”

“I wouldn’t take it that far…” You laughed when he blushed, displeased his nickname lived. “Regardless, I believe it’s time we prepared for the day. Are you able to walk on your own?”

You allowed Frederick to escort you to your quarters. Thankfully, the ride didn’t last much longer, news of land and a large battalion waiting for you. 

The tome was readied the closer you came to port, waiting with the Shepherds. The adrenaline rush that spiked your blood returned ten-fold. You’d be fighting on land; land was good. You had an advantage on land.

“Are you ready for this?” The prince asked you when the ship closed in. You swallowed thickly when you nodded, which Chrom noted. “Don’t worry; we’ll fight through and then we’re home free.”

“You better be right; I’m leaving if we get on that ship, again.” You grumbled. Chrom nudged your shoulder.

“Who’d have thought our dauntless tactician had a crippling aversion to sea travel?”

“Does it really count if not even _I_ knew it was a thing?” You added, and he snickered.

“We should save the banter for _after_ battle, milord.” Frederick approached, “We’ve only a few moments before the enemy opens fire.”

“Understood. Robin, give the signal. We’ll engage them as early as possible.”

“That’s the plan.” You nodded quickly before dispersing, Frederick following you. You flicked your fingers towards Sumia, Cordelia and their fleet to get going. Cherche stayed with Virion and his archers, watching the magic as they opened fire.

A rain of arrows and pegasi fell from both sides of the sea. Frederick pulled you behind him, shielding you from the onslaught of archers without a second thought. 

The ammunition didn’t falter even after you hit the dock. You lifted your eyes from the battlefield and stared out to the town beyond, immediately locking onto the enemies you needed to take down.

What you didn’t expect to see was a sudden blur of light and dark purples, two figures dashing through the morning gray with soldiers on their tails. Your face was drawn; there were civilians in danger. 

“Frederick, we need to move; we’ve got two civilians being chased.” You told him. His face was grim when he nodded, leading you to the front and joining Chrom's battalion. They leapt off the boats with haste, engaging the enemies. You hadn't a second to lose, after all.

You had innocent lives to save and a battle to win. And you'd achieve both without a shadow of a doubt.


	9. With Kid and Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Saving those who couldn’t save themselves was what defined your job as a whole. You’d be cursed if you couldn’t do that much."

“Civilians are running around with _this_ kind of troup to greet’em? Do people think they’re invincible or something? The fools!” Basilio’s words rang true in your head as the first bout of enemies were felled. Your sword came in and out, trading bodies with blades as the Valmese met defeat by your hand. 

Frederick was giving you a little room to fight, so you'd make the most of it. Although you had a feeling it wasn’t intentional, considering how violently he destroyed his enemies. It was almost as if he grew so focused on the battle, he didn’t even realize you were there. 

_'Not that it’s a problem; it just makes my job easier.’_ You thought with a dangerous smolder. Then your eyes locked onto the pair of civilians being driven into a corner. 

Protecting the army was one thing, but protecting innocents was something else entirely. You refused to allow a single drop of their blood spill while you lead the army.

“Frederick, take the far right!! They’ve got civilians cornered. There are four knights, at least!” You shouted to him over the throngs of battle. His spear crossed your path to deflect another soldier’s axe, quick to cut him away and block whatever arrows flew overhead. 

“You want to go that far in?? What of Lord Chrom and the rest?” He called back to you with another flick of the lance, which you complimented by blasting away a small quartet of Valmese. 

“He’s leading the charge on the west wing. We need only secure their safety and then fall back into line. Think you can handle that?” You checked, pulling your arms tighter around his waist. He nodded curtly before kicking Hebert into gear, urging his trusted stallion forward.

“You need only ask and it shall be done, milady.” You normally would have rolled your eyes at such a response, had the situation not been so dire. You opted for a humorless chuckle instead, lurching forward with Hebert as you powered through throngs of soldiers who dare block your path.

“I knew I could always count on you, my love.” You responded with equal mirth, switching tome for levin sword to protect his right flank. 

“I’m merely fulfilling my duty as knight and husband, as one would expect. Now,” He jerked Hebert around, swiveling the horse through a small opening, “Show me where they’ve gone!”

Your eyes narrowed, searching for the pair while Frederick bought the opportunity via killing off soldiers attempting to reach you. They were the least of your worries when you realize just how dire the civilian’s situation _was._

“About seven meters out! Both are unarmed, and they’re surrounded- Gods, they’re wounded!” A pit gnawed inside your stomach seeing their pale faces and frightened, wild eyes. “It’s a boy and a woman. Frederick, we’ve got to move-!”

“Then we’re off!” He bellowed, and even you weren’t sure how many swordsman dropped by his power. Spell after spell came from your tome, dual wielding your blade and magic without a second thought. They had to go down, and they had to go _now._ You’d be a fool to let them get any closer to that couple.

Luckily for you, there was an unstoppable force known as Frederick the Wary that accomplished your goal quickly. The second you were in range, you engaged the knights. 

“Robin, what are you-?!”

“Cover my blind spot! You’re weak against their class, and I’ll handle them with magic. Trust me on this one!” That was all you had to say before engaging the knights. They barely paid you any attention, rather focused on the two pressed into the corner of the wall. Your blood boiled at the sight, but perhaps it was for the best; you could destroy the sick-minded men without them even realizing what happened.

“Leave her alone!” The boy shouted, voice clear enough you could hear it over the clashing of weapons. “She won’t hurt you!! She’s done nothing wrong, s-stay away!!”

“Silence, boy!” One of them growled; the man closest to you. A blade of Thoron accumulated in your palm, ready to strike.

“Just kill’em, corporal! General Damon won’t care if we take a couple of townspeople with us. ‘Sides, all we really need is the woman!”

“True. I'm sure this one won’t be missed.”

“Don’t you dare-!”

“Say your prayers, whelp!!” 

That was the breaking point. The knight barely took his lance up before a bolt of lightning burst through his armor. The three others whipped around and stared, first in shock (pun unintended), and then anger.

“Who are you?!”

“The last pretty face you’ll ever see.” You smirked, sending the “corporal” along after his fallen partner.

“You little rat-!!” Another shrieked, barreling towards you with intent to impale. You effortlessly dodged his attack, countering with a strike of your sword. The boy standing in front of his partner cheered.

“That’s no rat, you big jerk! That’s my mother!!”

 _’Come again??’_

Your body completely froze when the words came out of his mouth, and you turned to stare at him. He looked back at you with a confident grin, as if encouraging you to continue decimating the knights. “What did you say?”

His mouth opened to answer, but quickly changed course. “Mother, look out!! _On your left!”_

“On my-!” You swiveled around to spot the knight charging in. The lance tore through your old coat in an unpleasant and nearly painful ripping that was a little too close. You zapped away the knight with a single, angry spell and finished off the last one trying to run. As if you’d let him get away. 

“Wow...Mother, you’re amazing!” He breathed, coming up to you and grasping your arm. “I knew you could do it! You came for me as soon as you could! But I have to admit, it was a little scary when we got separated. I thought I’d be lost forever!!” 

He laughed when you stared, completely caught off-guard by the sudden assault. His hands squeezed you tightly, keeping you from pulling away.

“I-I’m sorry, but who are you? Why do you keep calling me ‘Mother’?” You questioned him, adding, “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“What?” He blinked rapidly, in utter disbelief you’d say that. “Oh, come now, Mother! Now’s no time for jokes! We’re in the middle of battle!”

 _”I_ am, _you’re_ about to leave! Take that woman and get somewhere safe. If you’re unarmed, stay off the battlefield!” 

“B-but I _can_ fight! _You_ taught me how!” He protested, coming closer and reaching for you again. “Just give me a sword, or a lance! I’ll be able to fight off whatever soldiers you want me to!”

“I-I didn’t teach you-”

“-This boy is your son, is he not?” The woman who accompanied him suddenly stepped forward, “He has been speaking of a woman who fits your description since we met. In fact you look exactly like the ‘mother’ he described. You _are_ his mother, yes?”

“N-no!! I’ve never met him in my life! A-at least, not that I know of…”

“Ohh, that’s right! Your amnesia’s acting up, isn’t it? No worries! We’re in the same boat!!” He rapped his head with his knuckles, “I lost mine when I woke up, this morning!”

“How do you know about that? No, wait- It doesn’t matter. If you can fight, then fight! Grab a lance and take out whoever you can. Keep that woman away from the battle! Unless you can fight, too?” You gestured to her, and she nodded.

“I am capable. You need only procure a sword and I will assist in whatever way I can.”

“Lucky me, then.” You muttered, sacrificing your levin sword for her to take. “Both of you, stick together and take to the nearest Ylissean soldiers you can find. Get in there and do what you can!!” You ordered them, and set off in search of Frederick. It wasn’t hard to find him; the man was like a demon the way he ripped apart the enemies surrounding him.

Your magic came in at a crucial moment, exploding across the field and silencing a mage who was about to cast a curse over your husband. Frederick met your gaze when the mage went flying past his line of vision, and he immediately lit up when he did.

“Robin! Are you all right?” He called to you, and you nodded. He was swift to cut a path straight to you. Magic and lancework intermingled as you removed the last of the battalion, and you couldn’t have been happier to mount Hebert once again.

“I’m fine!” You assured him, thankful to have returned to him in one piece. “Turns out those civilians aren’t so helpless, after all. They both volunteered to help us fight.”

“That’s fine, assuming they actually know _how_ to fight!” He pointed out, and you shrugged. “Are you certain they can handle it?”

“Well they aren’t dead yet, so,” You glanced behind to see the boy fighting with the woman, seeming to handle themselves just fine. “They're okay in my book.”

“Why is that one waving at you?" Frederick stared at the boy for only a moment before continuing his assault.

“I’m not sure. He’s a strange one; called me “Mother” a dozen times, then told me I’m the one who taught him how to fight. Strange, isn't it?”

“He called you _’Mother’?”_ He repeated the phrase as if it were crazy, “He must be fatigued.”

“Well, I suppose we can deal with it after the battle. For now there’s a general in my sights that’s ripe for taking down. Are you ready for it?” You asked him, and you could almost see the grin on his lips.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

The battle ended surprisingly quickly. After securing civilians and normalizing the attack plans, Chrom had the Shepherds make swift work of the remaining Valmese. General Damon didn’t stand a chance against your relentless pairing.

“And so it ends,” Chrom said as he walked up to you both, sheathing Falchion and placing a hand on your shoulder. “You did well, Robin. There aren’t as many casualties as we thought. Perhaps the Conqueror’s army isn’t as strong as we thought.”

“Don’t jinx us, boy.” Basilio chuckled tiredly, ruffling Chrom’s hair much like, well, a _boy._ “This was only the beginning. We can’t forget we’re heading straight into enemy territory; the man’s home field. Gods know how we’ll be able to fair in terrain none of us are a lick familiar with.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Flavia brushed off his comment, grinning at you, “We can’t forget we’ve got the strongest tactician on all the continents on our side too, right?”

“Whatever you say, Flavia.” You laughed softly, making it a little more than obvious that you weren’t entirely in agreement with that statement.

“We needn’t worry about that. For now, we should make haste for the Voice’s tree. The sooner we get there, the better. We must strive to recruit her, and swiftly. There are untold advantages in changing the future, should we find her soon enough.” Lucina spoke up from her father’s side, having approached breathlessly. 

“Agreed. We’ll draw up a route to take and go from there.” You assured her. “It might be nice to take a little detour from the war path, although I doubt we’d be away from them for very long.”

“True; Walhart will most likely catch onto the plan and follow. We should be ready for battle.” Lucina confirmed your thoughts, though they suddenly changed when she continued, “By the way, Robin. I heard you’ve reunited with Morgan.”

“What?”

“You saved Morgan and Lady Say’ri earlier, correct? He told me you rescued them, and recruited him for battle. I thought it was interesting you’d just throw him into war like that, but it makes sense; he was one of our strongest fighters, before Grima attacked.”

“N-no, I don’t. Hang on a second, when did-”

“-Robin.” Frederick cut you off, staring at you intensely. There was an unreadable glimmer in his eye. “Doesn't it make sense? He addressed you as ‘Mother’, and claimed to be trained by you. Isn't it plausible that he’s-”

“-Our son.” You said in unison.

You then proceeded to black out.


	10. Meeting Morgan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He came to your side quickly enough, fingers trembling as his hands curled into fists against his thighs.
> 
> And for a moment, everything was still."

Everything was hazy when you opened your eyes. A dull throb hit your head when a blurry world came into focus. Wherever you were, it was warm and dim, and full of people. As your vision gradually improved, you noticed some of said people were standing over you, some closer than others.

You groaned softly, feeling a warm hand suddenly graze your cheek. Calloused fingers ghosted over your skin, a very familiar voice speaking over you.

“Robin, are you awake?” Frederick asked quietly, as if afraid to hurt your ears with his volume. You responded with another groan. “Oh, thank the gods.” He sounded so relieved.

“I’ll alert Libra and bring him around.” Chrom spoke up from the other side, and you felt his hand grasp your shoulder. “It’s about time you came to, friend. Everyone’s been worried sick about you, particularly that brown-haired kid. What was his name again…?”

“Morgan, milord.” Frederick informed the prince. “I suggest you make haste, now. Gods only know what could be wrong with her, and I’d like to find out quickly.”

“On it.” Chrom gave your arm one last squeeze before leaving you be. You blinked rapidly, attempting to push yourself up as your muddy thoughts tried to make sense of the swift conversation.

“He said ‘Morgan’...?” You mumbled, and Frederick nodded as his arm came around you, helping you sit up with a deep concern etched in his expression.

“Surely you recall running into our son, not too long ago.” He said, somber as he turned your gaze to him. “You fainted after the revelation that the boy you rescued was our son. ...You gave us all quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I don’t know what came over me. It’s not like me to...faint, just hearing news like that.”

“Perhaps that’s why it was so frightening.” He replied in a low voice, gently replacing your hand with his own. “You may have over exhausted yourself, this morning. Mayhaps you’ve a fever.”

“I’m not sure that’s the entire answer, but exhaustion could be a contributing factor.” Libra stepped into the small space allotted for your cot, a small smile on his lips as he looked to you. “I feel there may be multiple causes. At the very least, it’s a relief to see you awake.”

“It seems the whole camp’s been in disarray since I passed out.” You mused tiredly, allowing his hands to cross over your face.

“For good reason; you’ve such dark bags under your eyes, your skin pallid and your entire body is completely spent. How much rest have you been getting?” 

His question raised a reminder of the last two weeks. It had been kept on the down low, no one knowing that your faintness was caused by the little sleep you had. You couldn’t help it; considering you spent fourteen days rocking around on a boat, and knowing you’d throw up whatever food you had left, it didn’t come easily. 

Topping that off with morning sickness at god-awful hours in the morning, your opportunity for sleeping was a very, very small window. You tended to miss it more often than not, which you planned to make up for after reaching land and hitting the bedroll on the safe, solid ground.

Then nobody would ever know. At least, that’s what you thought.

“I make sure she comes to bed at 10:00 sharp, every night.” He jumped in curtly, and Libra looked between you. 

“And does she go to sleep?” He questions next, and you exchange an uncomfortable glance with your worrying spouse.

Although you intended to keep that information from the hovering husband, whose eyes narrowed when you hesitated with your answer, you knew the cat was out of the bag. With a heavy sigh, you looked down at your hands with a nervous smile.

“W-well...it’s been difficult to sleep the last few weeks, but I’ve been trying.” You finally admitted, and you heard Frederick sigh quietly beside you. You didn’t dare meet the eyes that were boring into you, the sheer concern in them making you feel guiltier than you should.

“I see.” Libra’s hand touched your womb, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “You have reached the second half of the first trimester. I imagine the nausea has taken to new heights, and I’m certain the hormonal imbalance has begun to affect the way your body functions in more than one way.”

“I haven’t noticed too much change, save for the constant feeling of bile crawling up my throat.” Libra nodded in understanding as he retracted.

“Then I suggest we move your tent. I’ve some ginger root to ease the nausea, and some lavender tea to help you sleep. I’m sure the headache hasn’t eased any, either...”

“You’d be correct.” You chuckled dryly, and Frederick’s hand closed around yours, an attempt to comfort. Sparing him a glance you realized he wasn’t disappointed in you; the I’m-beating-myself-up face was well defined.

“I’ll be sure to take her, immediately.” Frederick promised, rising from his seat. “Is there anything else we should know?”

“Mm...actually, there is. Once you get closer to the end of the trimester, your hormonal imbalance will become much more apparent. You’ll have to take care; Robin’s emotional state will fluctuate easily. Even for someone as cool headed as you, milady, your sensitivity will rise exponentially. You would do well to avoid dramatic situations, if you can.”

Your hand rested on the tiniest bump that had yet to make itself completely known. “I’ll do what I can.”

“As will I.” Frederick added, and without further ado, he lifted you from the cot. You wrapped an arm around his neck, the other grasping his vest tightly with the intent to _not_ fall. “Thank you, Libra. I’ll have Morgan bring us the herbs.”

“Good. Be sure you relax, Robin.”

You managed a soft smile for the kind man, who waved as the both of you left. Your head finally came to rest against Frederick’s chest, letting him carry you out of the tent. You were thankful, too; you hardly expected the clamor of Shepherds barraging you as Frederick left the tent.

“Robin!! Thank the gods, you’re awake!!” Stahl cried first, your dear friend rushing up to you with a bright smile. “We were worried sick about you! I think I ate half the bear meat rations, I was so stressed.”

“You _did_ eat half of them.” Cordelia told him, “Not that any of us are complaining. It’s good to see you up, Robin. A lot of us really were concerned.”

“Would you believe that do-gooder priest wouldn’t even let me in to see you?” Tharja grumbled next, coming to your side with a very displeased expression. “I could’ve found a hex of some kind to heal you, at least. Or something to that effect…”

“There will be no hexing of the tactician, good intent or no.” Miriel told her with a deep frown, pushing the glasses up. “I believe Robin has suffered enough traumatic experiences for one afternoon.”

“We’re just happy you’re back!” Vaike chuckled, moving to clap you on the shoulder. While his comment was met with a round of agreements and cheers, Frederick moved away before his hand could touch you.

“While it is indeed wonderful she’s awakened, she is still in a fragile state. You would do wise not to do anything akin to rough housing, and the like.” He said sternly, weaving his way through the crowd. “If you’ll excuse us, Robin is to rest until she returns to normal.”

“But what about the campaign?” Lucina suddenly piped up, all eyes on her. “We have to reach the Tree before the Conqueror does. We can’t afford to waste a single second.”

“I understand that, milady.” Frederick stated, curt as usual, “However, it’s unwise to march on with a decommissioned tactician. She is in no state to lead the army, and neither are the rest of us. Consider this a slow afternoon, and you’d do well to take advantage of it.” 

Frederick used the brief moment of disbelief that they had just gotten a day off, from the one person who didn’t even believe in “slow afternoons”, to retreat in your tent.

He couldn’t have settled you into the bedroll fast enough. You could tell by the sheer determination in his eyes, he wanted you better immediately. You watched him as he worked, tucking you in carefully without a single word spoken between you.

There was guilt hiding among the worried crinkles by his mouth, which you caught without a second thought. Quietly, you hummed, making him look down at you.

“Are you feeling all right?” He asked, seemingly out of sorts. You nodded slowly, your hand slipping free from the constricting folds of the sheets to touch his cheek. “Robin…”

“I’m sorry I worried you, Freddybear.” You murmured. “I’m sure it wasn’t just the camp who was scared. I think I’ve spotted your first gray hair, already.”

“I...will not deny, I was concerned.” He sighed as he leaned back, giving your palm a chaste kiss before lowering your hand back to the bed. “It’s intensified, knowing you’ve had no rest for weeks on end. Had I known you weren’t sleeping well, I would’ve done everything in my power to take care of you.”

“You weren’t supposed to know.” You smiled weakly, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t want to worry you, or anyone, for that matter. I figured as soon as we jumped ship, I’d catch up on the sleep I missed and there’d be no need for concern.”

“I appreciate the consideration.” Frederick said with an almost undetectable sarcasm. “However, I believe we’ve covered the issue of my sole duty is being worried, particularly over the wellbeing of yourself and Morgan. At the very least, you should have told me you weren’t sleeping. You _know_ how important rest is.”

“Which is why I tried so hard to get it. Perhaps I should’ve gone to you or Libra for remedies after all.” You admitted weakly, enough to make him sigh and clench his jaw.

“It doesn’t help this business is going to get riskier. If your situation is going to get worse, gods only know how we’re to deal with it. We didn’t have any time to find medical journals on pregnancy, or remedies for this sort of thing…” You watched as Frederick’s worrisome ramblings deteriorated further and further, the crease in his brow sharper than ever.

With a deep breath, you tapped his knee to bring him back to reality. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry so much about this. So, I didn’t get a lot of sleep this time.” You shrugged, looking up at him with an easing gaze that honestly, should have belonged to him. “I’ll rest, get better with Libra’s help, and take the rest of it as it comes. There’s no point worrying about the future now, is there?”

“If we aren’t prepared for what comes, we’re asking for disaster to strike, love.” Frederick replied with exasperation, and you shook your head. Your fingers carefully wove around his, bringing his hand close to your face. 

“But if we’re afraid for what might happen, we’re only making ourselves vulnerable to the possibility that things could get worse.”

“It’s not a possibility, Robin. You _will_ get worse.” 

“That’s not the kind of attitude I like to hear.” You squeezed his hand, lips quirking upwards. “I promise you, nothing will come that we aren’t able to handle. We’ve already made it through four weeks and some change, with nothing but vomiting and exhaustion. It’s my understanding that’s the worst of it, save for back pains and organs getting squeezed.”

“Your organs get _what?”_ He stared at you in disbelief, and you shrugged. 

“I’ve only got a little knowledge on the subject. We’ll be able to figure out more once we get our hands on some journals, whenever that may be. Perhaps we could make some arrangements to go back to Valm Harbor, see if they’ve got something for us.”

“I would like that very much.” Frederick sighed softly, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “I only wish to keep you safe from all this. You and Morgan, both. You know that.”

“I do; you tell me nearly every day.” You smiled up at him, laughing softly. “And _you_ know that I’m strong enough to handle as much as I can, and do it with a smile. But, I’ll be more than happy to keep you up-to-date on my condition. I’m getting the feeling that attempting to conceal things will only make you worry more.”

“You know me well.” He agreed, the warm steadiness of his hand more soothing to you than he could ever fathom. “If you’d be willing, your husband is more than happy to hear of your ailments; even the petty ones.”

“Duly noted.” You told him, and Frederick finally allowed himself a tiny smile. “You know, if you’d like, we could always take a break, together. Perhaps you could join me in bed, this afternoon? It’s easier to rest when I’ve got you there with me.”

“Perhaps I could arrange to make some time for that.” He figured, his hand brushing across your forehead, running through your hair. “I’m afraid I have a few things I need to take care of, first.”

“Even though you’re the one who called the afternoon off?”

“Worry not; I’ll be back soon.” He assured you, “Besides, I believe there’s someone who’s been waiting to meet you.” Your eyebrows rose when he added on, growing more curious when he rose to leave. 

“Who would that be-”

“Mother!!” You started when a very loud young man burst into the tent, making both your eyes snap to the intruder. Frederick seemed a little more collected than you, catching the boy’s shoulder when he rushed forward, “Are you all right, Mother?!”

“M-Mother?” You repeated in disbelief, trying to piece together the fact he was coming at you in a fluster, and seemed terribly afraid for your wellbeing. 

“Slow down, Morgan.” Frederick said slowly, “She’s still recovering. You must be gentle with her.”

“R-right, Father. Sorry.” Morgan stammered, approaching you much slower than his initial explosion. He came to your side quickly enough, fingers trembling as his hands curled into fists against his thighs.

And for a moment, everything was still.

You looked up at the young man who stared down at you, the mixture of relief, happiness and concern making the perfect blend of yours and Frederick’s expressions. His nose was sharp, as was his jawline. Yet he held a tenderness in his eyes, and a smile just as gentle as yours.

 _‘He’s the spitting image of his father.’_ You thought, noting how many more similarities he shared with Frederick than yourself. _‘Though it seems he’s a bigger fan of me more than anything.’_ You noted the old coat that matched yours, the calculating edge in those eyes that matched your hue to a T. 

“I-I was, um…” Morgan cleared his throat, looking at you with a nervous smile, “I was worried when you fainted, Mother. I thought you’d been struck by the enemy, or something worse. L-like a curse, or something!” He added, and you smiled up at him.

“I apologize for worrying you. It seems I tired myself a little more than I thought.” You told him, and he nodded vigorously.

“That’s what Father told me.” He glanced back at the man observing the scene with a curious interest. “I know you’ll be fine, you always are.” 

“I suppose I rose to this position for a reason.” You mused, and he went on to gush about how strong you always were. Somehow, your conversation took off well beyond simple laughter and awkward questions, growing more relaxed with the child sitting beside you.

Tears slipped from his eyes more than once, and it made your heart thump, something driving you to dry them away. The thought made your stomach turn, but in a good way; as a reminder that this was the intelligent, strong young man your little one was going to turn into.

You knew Frederick had to be proud beyond understanding, just as you were. While you felt that, neither of you noticed the knight slipping out of the tent. You didn’t mind much; he had something to do, after all, and with Morgan’s cheerful company you were happy to be left with him.

The boy stayed until you were fast asleep, helping you slip into a restful sleep by mixing up the ginger root he’d hastily stored away in his pocket, along with lavender he’d forgotten in concern for your health. He watched you sleep as he lovingly stroked your hair, waiting for when your eyes would open again.

He planned to spend every waking moment with you that he could, the second you returned to full health. There were so many more things to talk about, so much to do. Morgan could hardly wait to experience it all with you, and his father. 

A father who returned to the tent with a hefty crate of supplies, which Morgan noticed was an array of books that caught his attention.

“What’s all that, Father?” He asked quietly as he could. Frederick looked to his child with a smile, setting the crate down by his desk.

“A few medical journals, among other things. Lord Chrom was kind enough to allow my returning to the Harbor. I was hoping to research a few subjects, nothing too interesting.”

“Are you kidding? There’s nothing more interesting than a good book!” Morgan gushed, carding his hand through your hair. “Mother used to read with me all the time when I was younger. She’s the one who got me so excited about literature, after all.”

“It seems you’ve taken after her a lot, in that regard.” Frederick mentioned kindly, coming to sit beside him. “And I’m guessing this is something she taught you, too?” He gestured to Morgan’s ministrations.

“I remember her always being calmed whenever someone did this to her. It’s a little hazy, but I recall a few memories, seeing how relaxed she’d become when Mother’s hair was stroked. When the two of us were left alone, and she was upset, or stressed, I would always do this. It really helped her.” 

“I see.” Frederick murmured, making sure to remember that for later. “Well, I suppose you’re tired, after the events of today. Perhaps you'd consider taking a rest for yourself.” He suggested, and Morgan shrugged.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt, but I’d rather spend time with Mother.”

“I don’t think you’ll be spending time together for a little while; it appears she’s completely unconscious.” Frederick noted, placing a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Go on; you’ve more than earned some time for yourself. I’ll keep watch over her, and alert you when she awakes.”

“Promise?” 

“You’ve my word.” Frederick reassured his boy. Morgan’s gaze flickered to you a little longer, but he eventually stood and did as his father suggested. He whispered a quick farewell to you both, and gave his parents some much needed privacy.

Frederick watched as Morgan disappeared, waiting until his footsteps faded away before returning to the crate to retrieve a few items. Carefully, he came into the bedroll with you, setting his supplies how he needed them; a medical journal in his lap, turned to the first page on “Expectancy and Observations of Pregnancy”, the first volume in a set of many. 

And as he read the pages of the journal with great fervor, the soft clacking of knitting needles could be heard within the tent. He’d purchased the wool on a whim, seeing its price at an impressive reduction, and knowing just how chilly the evenings could be in early May. 

Besides, he used to knit scarves and sweaters for the Exalt children not too long ago. It was only fitting he knit Morgan’s very first piece of clothing. 

And many more after it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the lack of updates, everyone! I'm afraid I've been so busy with exams and school, my exhaustion levels have skyrocketed. The stress has been real, and it's been difficult to get any writing done for a number of weeks, now. I hope this chapter makes up for the lack of updates, and I promise to get more done soon! Christmas Break comes after Friday! Yay!!


	11. Discourse Follows Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You couldn’t help staring in awe at what you had; the Tree was a marvel, and you were amazed."

The trip to the Tree was a little fun; Morgan didn't stop talking, constantly asking about the “present”, strange theories how he ended up in the past, why he didn’t recognize Lucina or his father, or anyone. While it was pleasant to have intelligent conversation with someone, it only reminded you how unpleasant the trip ahead would be.

Particularly when Frederick rode ahead, and returned in a froth. He looked straight at you, and you knew the situation was already bad.

"There's smoke up ahead, milord.” Frederick informed Chrom. “We’re a few kilometers out, but the enemy has already reached the Tree.”

Lucina cursed to herself, “I knew we shouldn’t have taken that afternoon away. Valuable time, wasted... And for what?”

“The wellbeing of the army, and our tactician.” Chrom reminded his daughter in a gentle manner, though he wasn’t any happier.

“We’ll worry about it later. For now, we should focus on formulating a plan. All we have to do is make sure they don’t reach the top first, right?” You figured, glancing at the road ahead. “Though something tells me they’re not after the Voice.”

“They’ve no reason to deal with a narcoleptic dragon. Rather, they’re going to keep us from our goal. Why else would they've cut us off this far from civilization?” Frederick added.

“I suggest we use the tree to our advantage.” Morgan figured, the magnificent creation peeking over the grassy road. “Whatever formation they take, it’ll be easy to cut them off if we use its structure properly.”

“And how would we do that?” You ask him next, and Morgan shrugged, looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I’ve seen that tree before. I don’t know how, but...it’s familiar. If I’m not mistaken, there are multiple roots we can use to give us alternate pathways to take. If they’re waiting for us, there’s a chance we could head them off.”

“Interesting.” You murmured, looking at the broad canopy riddled with enemy soldiers. If there was more than one way to get up there, it was opportunity to save lives. 

“And how do you know this?” Frederick questioned his son, and you noticed his suspicion. Frederick had been over the moon about meeting his boy for the first time, but considering his nature, it was natural he be wary. And even _you_ had to admit it was odd he knew about the Tree. You looked to him expecting confusion, maybe even hurt his father didn't trust him, but he wore his smile wide.

“I dunno, I just do.”

“...Right.” Frederick murmured, looking to you in search of a solution. You pursed your lips, deciding you should have faith in him. Besides, if Morgan was wrong there were other ways to formulate a plan.

“Let’s give it a try. If we scout ahead we’ll be able to confirm if it’s true or not. And if there aren’t alternate pathways, we’ll work with what we have.”

“This isn’t a problem to 'work with', Robin.” Lon’qu spoke up. Even Basilio was surprised, seeing the stoic swordsman comment. Somehow, he looked more tentative than Frederick. “This is an enemy _army_ , and a strong one. You seriously want to trust the safety of thousands to an amnesiac child?”

“Is that a problem?” You snapped, feeling an urge to defend the boy whose smile faltered. “Do _you_ know anything about the Tree? How about the enemy we’re engaging? No? Morgan’s got experience like I do, even if he has amnesia. So, if you think someone’s not fit to lead because of a foggy background, maybe you picked the wrong army to serve!”

The Shepherds went dead silent. Your blood boiled beneath your skin, hardly paying attention to the strange looks you received. At least, until you looked around and realized what you did was very out of character.

“Robin…” Chrom stared at you, and you cringed. His eyes searched for an explanation, and you knew what it was. You froze, clearing your throat.

“What I meant was…I-I don’t see why not.” You defended your son much more carefully. “If he’s wrong, he’s wrong. But last I checked, trees don’t grow with one root, and with it being so large, I’m sure he’s right.”

“If Robin approves the idea, then I’m fine with it.” Chrom’s ever-trusting ultimatum ended the conversation, and he motioned forward. “Let’s see what we have to work with, shall we?”

You trailed after him, returning the army to its march with a curt nod. “Let’s.”

~*~

It was just as Morgan said. There were at least a dozen thick roots that could house an army without strain. You couldn’t help staring in awe at what you had; the Tree was a marvel, and you were amazed. But the excitement was cut short when you saw the mustachioed general waiting at the height of its roots, blocking the staircase to your destination. He looked as silly as he did dangerous, waving a razor-sharp lance around.

“Looks like we have our battlefield waiting.” You muttered, staring at the scene. You counted five major routes to the steps, and you'd use each to your advantage. 

Chrom came to your side. “What do we do, Robin?”

You quickly gave your comrades orders, facing the assault closing in. After everyone was ready, the charge began, and the Valmese began to drop. You couldn’t have been more excited to start a battle. It was one with its downfalls, however; the enemy had the high ground, and there were many instances you felt yourself overwhelmed by the onslaught of enemies. They were in constant supply.

“You may as well give up, tactician!!” The general Cervantes chortled, voice as big as his mustache. “You’re no match against the great Walhart! It’s a pity to come so far and fail before you’ve a chance!!”

“The only death we’ll see is yours!” You shouted, hacking your way through soldiers. “You think you can handle us? The Ylissean-Feroxi front is strong!”

“I find it difficult to believe such hogwash!” He chortled, advancing on you. You considered calling for back-up, but when you looked behind, you understand why that wouldn't happen; they were overwhelmed.

Every squadron was nearly overrun with soldiers. It wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle, but you were on your own. Your grip tightened on your sword, glaring at your opponent.

“Perhaps I should take him.” Frederick said, Hebert moving restlessly. “Something about him doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Well, I _did_ finish the last one. Perhaps it’s your turn.” You reasoned, following when he surged forward.

Frederick's lance swung around as he engaged the general. “You’ve no room to speak, Cervantes. You’re facing impossible odds, despite how powerful you think you are!

“How’s that, Sir Knight?” He scoffed.

“Where you have replaced conviction with arrogance,” Frederick lunged, and a burst of magic erupted from your fingertips. Cervantes made the mistake of watching as every knight around him dropped like flies. Even after Frederick’s lance pierced his skin. _"We have determination.”_ Cervantes dropped, another stone cast into the waters below the Tree. You couldn’t help staring at your husband as he watched the man fall, disappearing into the water. "May the gods have mercy on your soul."

“There’s the Sir Frederick I married.” You smiled to yourself, which wasn’t beyond Frederick’s boundary. He winked when he heard you, holding a hand out for you to take.

“I never left, milady. Although I believe there are battalions in need of assistance.” He replied, drawing your attention to your army that was taking care of those fighting. Dozens of soldiers scattered and abandoned after witnessing their general's death. It made your job a touch easier.

“Let’s finish the job.” You agreed, Frederick lifting you onto Hebert. You rode towards the danger, and for a second it almost felt like simpler times. Back when love was young, but Frederick admired your endless strength. It was different from the over-protectiveness he held now, \knowing you were moving on in the pregnancy. Almost two months passed, and war was still a problem. You hoped things would move faster, for his sake.

~*~

“See? I knew there'd be more roots!” Morgan exclaimed when all was done, him and Lucina ending the last fighters.

“I knew you were right. You’re not one to play tricks. …At least, ones you can execute.” You grinned, and he flinched. Pranks weren’t exactly his strong suit.

“That’s true!” Morgan laughed sheepishly. “Though I wish I could've done more to assure the others. Something tells me they’re not as open to me as you and Father, or even Lucina.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” You agreed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “They’re just suspicious because they don’t know you yet. But there’s nothing to worry about; we'll find your memory and all will be well.”

“I’ll work extra hard to figure it out, then!” He decided with determination rivaling his father’s. Said knight walked towards you both with a small, albeit tired, smile on his face.

“It’s nice to see the two of you in high spirits.” He commented.

“He seems to have taken my optimism to entirely new heights. I think the energy and stamina's from you, honestly.” You chuckled, ruffling Morgan's hair

“Is that so?” Morgan looked at his father proudly. Frederick couldn’t help smiling at him; that shining face would be the love of his life in seven months. He could hardly wait.

The wonder was interrupted when Lon'qu approached, serious as ever. “Chrom wanted me to tell you we’re heading up to meet _her._ I suggest you…” He trailed off, sparing a glance at your son, “…Make haste.”

You were getting tired of the wary looks that man threw at him.

“We _will.”_ You growled, a bitter bite in your tone that surprised everyone around you. Morgan glanced over, as did Frederick. Lon'qu was thankful your husband waved him away from your wrath. “Did that…come out wrong?”

“You sounded angry, Mother.” Morgan confirmed nervously. “I-it's all right, really. I know he’s suspicious of me, just like everyone else.”

“Everyone else?” You repeated, concern crossing both parents’ faces. 

He was quick to cover, adding, “I-it’s fine! Don’t worry about it. It makes sense not to trust a boy you picked up in enemy territory. It _is_ strange, isn't it?”

“I suppose...” You trailed off, but regained your thoughts. “Go on ahead with Lucina. I think it’ll be good for you to spend time with friends.”

Morgan's eyes sparkled at the idea, turning on his heel hurrying to meet Chrom’s daughter. “Thank you, Mother! I’ll see you up!”

You waited until he disappeared before you spoke again. “…They don’t trust him?”

“It's fair. I’m sure the others feel a similar concern as I did when we first met. With Morgan, it's their first time seeing someone in your situation. They're likely realizing how bizarre it is.”

“But not everyone's cautious like you, Frederick. Besides, they could care less about my 'suspicious appearance'.” You reasoned. Frederick sighed.

“Perhaps the paranoia of fighting Walhart is seeping through the cracks. We'll make sure to quell the fear before it gets worse.” 

“I’ll have a word with Chrom, for certain.” You murmured, starting after the army when they moved upwards. Frederick’s hand caught you, making look at him.

“And you _will_ be handling the situation with…tact, yes? It wouldn’t do to snap at the prince.”

“Who said anything about snapping?” You said so defensively it caught _you_ off guard. “…Ah. Right.”

“I believe the hormones are kicking in. You’ve been defensive since Lon’qu spoke.” Frederick said. You bit your lip.

“I...might need you to come, to keep me from saying something regrettable.”

“It would be my honor.” Frederick smiled, linking your arm with his. “Until then, shall we go?”

The two of you headed up the stairs, and you were thankful Frederick let you hold on for support; there were a _lot_ of stairs. While the already exhausted army seemed rampant with complaints about the perilous staircase, it was worth the trouble.

After all, the view was breathtaking.

And that was just the beginning; when Lady Tiki appeared (courtesy of Say'ri), she was elegant and kind. She recognized Chrom, mistaking him for Marth before he explained who he was. When Lucina entered the conversation, she seemed amused with both of them. That amusement faded when they informed her of the war, and of the future. Grima was her mother's arch nemesis, of course.

“Do you yet possess the Fire Emblem? It should have been passed down through your family.” She questioned, knowing it was necessary to succeed.

“Yes, I have it.” He presented the shield to her, which you wondered off-hand why he wore it to defend himself. Tiki’s ears twitched when it fell into her hands, brow furrowing. 

“But, where are the gemstones? I see only Argent.”

“Gemstones?” Chrom repeated. Tiki quickly realized she was the only one with what she thought was common knowledge.

“…Yes, there are five- Argent, Sale, Gules, Azure, and Vert. Each holds part of Naga’s power. When mounted upon the Emblem, they allow one to perform the Awakening.”

“The rite by which the first Exalt channeled the divine power.” Frederick spoke up, looking amazed.

Tiki nodded solemnly. “The very same. With the Fire Emblem’s power, the Exalt was able to defeat Grima. But such power was too much for men, and the stones were scattered. I kept Azure here with me.”

Say’ri returned to the conversation gravely. “My kingdom had safeguarded Vert for generations...but the gem was stolen by Walhart’s men.”

“Do you know where the other gems could be?” Lucina’s question was met with a thoughtful hum. Tiki’s eyes closed, searching for an answer. You were afraid she fell asleep before she finally replied. 

“The remaining gemstones Sable and Gules are unknown to me. They may have been taken, long ago.”

“Regna Ferox was founded during the Schism. I think we had one.” Basilio joined in, stroking his goatee. “No, we _did:_ Gules. In fact, the West Khans once guarded the Gemstone for countless years. But it was lost centuries ago... Gods know where we'd find it, now.”

“At the very least, it's a start. Knowing the locations is good; it will be easier to retrieve them.” Tiki held up her hand, revealing a small, blue sphere. “Allow me to assist you more. Take Azure, Exalted ones. With it, you possess two gemstones. You will be even closer to protecting this world from Grima’s power.”

“Thank you, milady." You said softly, watching Chrom embed the gem in the Emblem for safe keeping. "We'll be sure to recover them."

"I wish you all luck." She told you all, before disappearing into her temple. You had to admit it was an amazing thing, meeting the daughter of Naga. It was almost awe-inspiring.

“Everyone, let’s take our leave. We shouldn’t keep the Voice awake longer than we have to.” He said. The others were happy to leave the staggeringly tall tree, despite the stairs.

“Let’s go, Morgan.” You heard Lucina call your son, and the tiniest smile touched your lips; she'd been caring towards your boy since he joined, which was relieving. It was nice to know _she_ was there for him, at least.

“I almost want to ask you to carry me.” You joked to your husband.

“If you’re truly tired, I am willing.” Frederick offered, moving to help you. You stopped him with a laugh, returning him to form.

“It was a jest, dear. Though I appreciate the offer, I’d rather save that for when I’m less capable of walking.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He responded with an equally soft grin, and the two of you started back down the steps to what you hoped would be a calm evening. 

One of the last few you would have the fortune of experiencing.


	12. Pushing Pressure Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He sat up a little straighter, suspicions growing; they were definitely hiding something."

Morgan didn’t know what to think when you “suggested” he sit this battle out. You were off to destroy a fort, important to the war, and he was raring to go. Imagine his surprise when _you_ shot him down.

“It’s better for the camp if you don’t come. At least, not until we can prove your ‘innocence’.” You said, sour mentioning the word. It hurt to see Morgan crestfallen, which Frederick noted as his son’s smile dropped.

“B-but I want to help! I’m a good fighter! I mean, _surely_ you can convince Lord Chrom-”

“-He approved the idea, which _I_ came up with.” You interrupted, sighing when his confusion became shock. “It’s best not to make them warier than already. Unfortunately there are many who find you... _off-putting._ For the sake of a paranoid military, it’s best if you stay here.”

“If they’re really worried about me, then let me fight! I’ll prove I’m loyal!” He protested, and Frederick stepped in.

“Morgan,” He started, firm but patient, “You cannot fight. I understand it’s frustrating, but it’s better to do as you’re told and prove your worth in menial ways. Work your way up the ladder.”

“I suppose that’s sensible…” Morgan trailed off, looking to his boots. “I just wanted to help.”

“Don’t worry.” Frederick smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. “You’ll be on the field soon, especially when your mother’s influence takes over these suspicions.”

“And believe me, it will.” You promised, and he found his smile. So he entrusted the fate of the army to your strategies, and left to his own devices at camp.

After diligently cleaning away his worries by polishing armor and weaponry, Morgan’s bright mind found itself wandering back to the problem at hand. You were most likely in the middle of battle. What if the enemy was too powerful? What if they had traps and curses you hadn't thought of before? His hands slowed to a stop, the broom pausing before he gathered his bearings.

 _‘Oh, I should stop thinking on it. Mother’d disapprove of worrying about it.’_ He scolded himself, knowing better than to bother with concerns of the battle. _‘I should find something else to do; I’m sure there’s plenty left to take care…of?’_

Morgan’s thoughts came to a pause when his gaze fell upon a book, waiting for its owner to retrieve it from the old table from which it was abandoned. He recognized it instantly; one of your old novels, and a favorite of his.

“Well, whaddya know; guess Mother really _is_ as forgetful as me!” He chuckled, retrieving the piece. “Best to return this quickly.”

 _‘Knowing Mother, she’ll probably tell the Shepherds how helpful I am, especially after informing her of all the good I’ve done around camp!’_ He beamed, walking past the precision-cut firewood and glistening armory. If that didn’t do you proud, Frederick would shed tears of joy. _‘In the end, all this good can only do more good for me!’_ Morgan figured with a bright grin, stepping into your tent. What he found was the absolute last thing he ever would’ve expected from his parents.

“Goodness! Where’d all this mess come from?” He gasped in surprise, surveying the train wreck that had become your tent. “Father wouldn’t allow this to happen.” His pondering aloud lead him to decide a clean-up was in order, and settled the tactical book atop a stack of others.

 _‘First thing’s first; this bedroll needs folding, and Mother’s spare clothes have to be returned to the pack before Fatherscolds her. She probably had the tent all to herself this morning.’_ He deduced, setting to work to restore the place to standard.

 _‘Now for these old books. Perhaps they belong in a crate?’_ Morgan caught sight of a familiar wooden box, one that he’d seen his father with only a couple days earlier. Sure enough, it had a few vacant spots. _‘Perfect!’_ He thought with a grin, carrying the small stack over.

“Well, perhaps this mess wasn’t as bad as I thought! A few things put together here and there, and- …What’s this?” His thinking aloud came to a pause when his eyes fell on a number of strange things.

The first was a stack of medical journals that were entitled “Observations of a Woman's Pregnancy” settled inside. Now that shocked Morgan; what in the world would those books be doing in the middle of a war camp?

“…Perhaps Mother and Father are considering bringing me into the world once the war is over.” He thought with a silly chuckle, placing the books atop them. Then that his hands brushed something soft. Curious, Morgan lifted a small, handmade thing out the crate, followed by a pair of knitting needles and a ball of yarn. It almost looked like-

“Baby clothes…?” Morgan whispered, staring at the soon-to-be onesie that was the same color as his father’s armor. He tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed. “‘Papa’s Pri’…? What’s this about?”

Morgan’s mind immediately flew into calculation mode as he stared at the fragile clothing. Even parents who were planning to have a child didn’t jump onto making baby clothes when they decided to have one. No, clothes and the like were purchased after the child was on the way, not before.

“Oh, but that wouldn’t make sense. There’s no way Mother would be with child already. That’s just silly!” He laughed, putting the clothing away and shutting the crate.

“…Although… There _is_ only a year’s difference between Lucina and I.” He mumbled, standing stock still.

_‘Is it truly possible?’_

“Morgan!!”

He was snapped from his thoughts at the sound of someone calling his name, retrieving the boy from his daze.

“Morgan, come quickly! The Shepherds have returned. I need your help in the healing tent!” Libra’s voice came closer, and Morgan hastily exited. Wouldn’t do to have people think he was snooping.

“They’ve returned?” Morgan asked when he fell in step with Libra, who greeted him with an armful of staves.

“Indeed. Robin made quick work of the lady general. There are a few casualties here and there, some worse than others. It's best we take care of them quickly.”

“Understood!” Morgan replied, heading for the healing tent to drop off the supplies. It didn’t take long for soldiers to wander back to camp, Frederick leading the helm as usual. Morgan’s gaze flickered when he saw his father; perhaps he should ask about the crate while it was fresh in his mind. The idea was dashed when Frederick dismounted, and revealed a rather unhappy _you_ carried in his arms.

“Father!” He called, quick to join you. You managed a smile, giving a half-hearted wave while Frederick reciprocated with a curt nod. “Is everything all right? The battle went well, I heard.”

“The battle was won, yes, but not without its casualties. I’m afraid your mother wasn’t as cautious as she led me to believe.”

“The only _leading_ I did was bringing the army to victory!” You spoke up, a notable pout on your face that made Morgan chuckle. “Honestly, it’s nothing. I twisted my ankle after a tiny misstep! You don’t need to take me to Libra. Morgan, please tell your father I don’t need to go to Libra.”

“Perhaps you should, as a precaution.” Morgan laughed, following beside his parents with a particular brightness. “Besides, I don’t think Father would listen even if I provided a valid argument.”

“Better safe than sorry.” Frederick sighed, “A rather simple lifestyle I don’t think you grasp.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. Morgan was fascinated by the marital squabble, even if it was meant to be more serious than you let on.

“Oh, dear. It appears we’ve received another serious casualty on the battlefield.” Libra mused, stepping into the tent just as Frederick settled you on the cot. “Nothing too deadly, I hope?”

“A sprained ankle.” You informed him. “It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

“Although it could have been avoided if you listened to me.” Frederick grumbled, unaware of the big, brown eyes watching them both. “You know better than to take such risks-“

“-Protecting my friends isn’t a risk-”

“You’re in no condition to be doing such strenuous things, especially knowing that there’s a possibility of something going wrong-“

“-Sir Frederick, perhaps you should wait until after I’ve finished to continue.” Libra interrupted, but enough was said. “But he's right, Robin. You must take care to avoid risky behavior. I know not what happened during battle, but it's preferable you walk away without harm.”

“It’s not even that serious!” You cried, exasperated by the attention. Morgan smiled knowingly, having a feeling it was Frederick’s overbearing nature conflicting with your duty. “Besides, this kind of injury won’t even affect the-“

She paused, gaze falling on Morgan. Libra and Frederick followed, and Morgan suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. He sat up straighter, suspicions growing; they were hiding something.

“…I understand, Robin.” Libra finally spoke, carefully setting your foot. “Even so, you must be _careful._ And until I can tend to you properly, I’d like you to rest in your tent. Once I’ve dealt with more pressing injuries, I’ll Mend the sprain.”

“That's fine with me.” You nodded, looking tired as Frederick lifted you up again. Morgan watched you leave, noting Libra’s sigh once they disappeared.

“Those two are quite the couple. Frederick can hardly stand to see her injured even in the slightest way.”

“He really is amazing.” Morgan laughed, though it was humorless. “You know, I can’t help but wonder… I-if you don’t mind my asking, but…”

“What is it?” Libra turned to him, a curious expression on his normally cool face. Almost as if he was nervous about what Morgan wanted to ask. Morgan's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, sensing perhaps it would be better to keep the question to himself. So instead, he shook his head.

“Nothing. It’s a question I should ask Mother.” He responded quickly, and left without another word. Libra watched after him, frowning at Morgan’s change. He’d a fairly decent idea what Morgan planned to ask, and wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

~*~ 

You were completely at odds with your husband. After placing you on the neatened bedroll (which you recalled being a mess before leaving), he proceeded to scold you.

It wasn’t on purpose, what happened. You were in the middle of the fight, lives on the line, and you took a wide berth to rescue a friend from the troubadour’s wrath. The general missed, and your leap out of the way had been executed perfectly. Or so you thought; your footing was off, and if it weren’t for the adrenaline pumping through your system, you would’ve noticed right away. It wasn’t until you tried to walk away and stumbled to the floor that you realized it. Thankfully Frederick caught you halfway down, having a minor heart attack when you collapsed.

Hence you found yourself in yet another conversation about safety, and how you enjoyed ignoring it. Frederick paced in the tent, livid with you and your “strategies”.

“Why do you insist on this, Robin?” He asked after a round of listing dozens of "basic" safety rules. He eventually came to sit beside you, vexed that you continued to fight him on the issue.

“Because it’s my job.” You responded bluntly.

“That doesn’t excuse you from throwing yourself in harm’s way every opportunity.”

“That’s not fair.” You frowned, looking up at your husband stubbornly. “I’m only trying to keep my friends alive. If I hadn’t acted when I did, we’d be down a mage and a friend.”

“And if you had missed? If her magic hadn’t? What if she struck you, Robin? What if she hit you somewhere important? What if she hurt Morgan?”

“But she didn’t, and we should be thankful. Everyone made it out alive, and that’s not something you can say every battle.”

“Which is exactly why I want you to stop putting yourself in these situations. Who’s to say the next battle won’t be treacherous? That _you_ won’t be struck down?”

“I can’t make that kind of promise, Frederick.” You sighed, knowing it was ripping him up inside. His expression was taut and cold, and you knew he was not only worried, he was terrified. He was terrified of you being hurt.

“For the sake of my sanity, can’t you at least try?” He asked, facing you completely. “Have you considered how it feels to see your loved one thrown into a split-second attack, one that you can't react to before it’s over? One you could walk away from unscathed, or damaged beyond repair? Imagine how that feels, knowing it’s not just you going in there. It’s the _baby_ you’re risking, as well.”

“I know that!” You said, a little louder than intended. Something about the conversation was frustrating to you, which was unfair to Frederick, but it was painful all the same. “I know that you’re scared, but I have to protect our people.”

“Robin-”

“-I know it’s frightening. I know you’re scared of something happening, and it’s bad. But there’s not a lot I can do. We’re in the middle of war, Frederick. I can’t stop doing my job because you’re worried. I’m doing what I can to stay safe, but taking a few hits is part of the process. You’ve got to understand that. I do, and _I’m_ the one who’s carrying the child.”

“But even so, I…” Frederick trailed off when he met your gaze. Something about it made him stop; he knew you weren’t going to agree. He sighed, looking away. “No…nevermind.”

“Frederick?”

“Forgive me.” He rose quickly, looking more tense than ever. “There is something I must do, elsewhere.”

And he left without another word.

“Oh, Frederick…” You watched after him with a frown; he was upset. You felt a sting of guilt in your chest, knowing you were the cause. You’d have to make it up to him, whenever he came back.

~*~

Morgan planned to stop by your tent; his parents were there, which meant he'd confront them about the journals and half-baby-outfit. It was when he saw his father stride past he changed his mind.

“Father?” Morgan called to him, but fell on deaf ears. He noticed Frederick was upset. “Oh, dear…I guess they continued that conversation, after all.”

He decided to follow, expecting a response when he fell in step behind him. But Morgan may as well have been a ghost.

“Naga, what am I supposed to do?” Frederick muttered to himself, coming to a stop inside the armory tent. His brow furrowed, seeing the strangely sparkling “...What in blazes?”

“I was polishing weapons and armor while you were gone.” He explained, nearly beheaded by his father when he whipped around.

“Morgan! Where did you come from?” Frederick asked, bewildered by his appearance (and disturbed he didn’t sense him before).

“I was right behind you, Father.” Morgan chuckled, “I’m guessing you were a little preoccupied, though.”

“Er…yes. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m afraid I’m a bit distracted.” He murmured sheepishly.

“You fought with Mother?” Morgan guessed, following him into the tent. Frederick nodded, obviously still sensitive to the subject. His hand fell on one of the spotless chest plates; it appeared his future self trained Morgan well.

“Unfortunately. I’m afraid she and I don’t see eye to eye on this whole war business. For some reason, she's determined to ignore any safety protocol. Even the simplest of things, she refuses to listen.” Frederick sighed again, setting the plate down.

Morgan sat on a crate behind him. “I dunno, Father. I’ve seen Mother fight; she's pretty cautious. Every now and then she’ll be daring, but it’s nothing more than anyone else. Probably less, when I think about it.” Morgan’s words made Frederick pause, coming to sit as well. He ran a hand through his hair, obviously unconvinced.

“If you saw the way she fought, you’d disagree. ...All I ask is she stay safe, perhaps battle more on the cautious side, but she won’t. It's...vexing. Though I apologize for dropping this on you; I'm sure you don't want to hear my ramblings.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Morgan assured him. “I do have a question, though.”

“Hm?”

“The reason you’re so worried about her safety. It’s because you’re married, right?”

“Yes, of course. Your mother’s safety is my first concern.”

“Mother’s safety… _and_ the baby’s?”

“Yes, and the-” Frederick stopped dead in his tracks, staring wide-eyed at his son.

Morgan smiled at his expression. “I was cleaning your tent and found some books and clothes. I figured I’d ask.”

“You’re perceptive, just like Robin.” Frederick laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “We...found out the day Ferox asked us to fight. Our intentions were to keep it secret. …At least, that’s what _she_ wanted.”

Morgan couldn’t have understood the situation better in that moment. Frederick’s frustration wasn’t just because of the fight; this was pent up for months. His father was _afraid._

“Father, why would you let her do this? S-she’s endangering herself! …And me!” Morgan added, bewildered either of you would allow such a thing to happen.

“Even if I enforced the decision, she wouldn't listen to me. There wasn’t much of a choice, hence the situation we’ve found ourselves in. Not even Lord Chrom knows about this. It’s _that_ important to her we fight.”

“Mother always did find a way to get things done.” Morgan admitted quietly, “But this is serious. I didn’t think she’d do something so drastic.”

“Neither did I.” Frederick agreed, “Now she’s bent on fighting without consideration for the little one. I’m sure she means well, perhaps to maintain a proper cover. But it doesn’t ease my concerns.”

“I understand.” His son chimed in, placing a hand on his father’s shoulder. “I don’t think we should worry too much, though. At least we’re done fighting, and Mother’s not terribly injured. It’ll give us time to plan out a good way to keep her safe while she’s carrying…well, me.”

“We’ve only a few days until we continue the march. You think that’s enough time to come up with a plan? One I'm sure your mother would hardly agree to, no less.” Frederick mumbled, the aura of defeat radiating in smothering volumes.

“Don’t worry, Father! We’ll figure something out! I’ll find a way to keep Mother safe. Of course, I’m gonna need your help. It’s not gonna work if you don’t.”

“You think you can protect her?” Frederick asked, skeptical his little son could do more than he already tried. But Morgan remained confident, nodding vigorously.

“Absolutely! I’ll figure out a way to keep Mother safe, for sure!” He promised, and that’s precisely what he planned to do.

At least, until the volcano happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm so sorry for not posting sooner! I've been so busy with other uploads and school, I haven't had the time (or motivation) to get this thing done. Luckily I know where the story's going, so don't worry about a thing. I'll try and get some more updates in soon! U v U


	13. Feeling Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The idea that he didn't want to do this...he didn't want to fight. It lingered inside you. It struck a chord with you, the very feeling you had suppressed since the beginning of the war."

Three days after your bout with Frederick, people officially thought you were insane. It wasn’t just your husband, anymore; just because you wanted to fight in a volcano.

You spotted it over the horizon; Frederick riding silently on one side and Morgan walking along the other. Flanked by your boys, you felt invincible. Exhausted, aching and nauseous, but invincible. Hence your matter-of-fact tone when suggesting the old Demon’s Ingle was the route to take. The Shepherds proceeded to implode.

“Are you mad?" Chrom was reacted first, eyes wide as saucers. “You can’t be planning to run into an _active_ volcano.”

“Surely not.” Frederick chimed in, casting a harsh, are-you-even-thinking glare. You swallowed thickly, uncomfortable under of his sharp gaze. Frederick’s stares were reserved for trainees and soldiers, not you.

“Say’ri already explained to us this place is an ill omen for her people. If her brother’s leading the charge, there’s a better chance they won’t give chase. And if they do, there’s no way all of them are going to come. Yen’fay won’t let them.”

“She speaks true.” Say’ri enforced your reasoning. She recounted the information on her brother, why she'd been pursued at Port because of her “treason”. “Yen’fay will not force them to follow. Superstition is bound tightly to our culture. The chance of victory will be higher if we do.”

“Unless we burn to death, first.” Lon’qu snapped. You held up a hand to stop him, a cold expression on your face that shocked your comrades.

“It’s been decided, and we’re going to make it through perfectly fine. If you have issues with it, you can wait out here to be captured by the Valmese. I won’t stop you. But I’ve run the numbers, and it’s the best chance we have to get to the capital. Understand?”

Lon’qu fell silent. 

“...Well, we haven’t a reason to distrust you now. You’ve lead us through the war with a streak of victory, so if this is your decision, I’ll support it.” Chrom sighed, giving you an encouraging smile which you gratefully returned. Lon’qu left looking as sour as ever, an expression that Frederick mirrored with a more bitter undertone. 

“Ready the troops for the trail inward. I’ll announce the formation as soon as scouts spot Yen’fay inside.”

“You heard the tactician!” Chrom called to the army, ordering them forward. “Let's go to work!”

You watched as they followed their king, Chrom leading away his soldiers and readying for battle. The way Lucina followed beside him reminded you of your own son, who was keen to stick by your side. 

Your view was suddenly obscured by three larger figures suddenly standing in front of you. And who should it be but a worried husband, frightened son and concerned priest.

“And what can I do for you three?”

“Mother, you can’t seriously be planning to go in there-”

“-In your condition, it’s too risky! Robin, this is insanity. Surely you know better than to-”

“-Your body is already in a weakened state. I would not advise you to go through with this.” 

All three of them clamored at once, and you worked awfully hard to silence them. 

“Everyone, just- stop!” You interrupted them, stepping away from their overbearing presence. When they obliged, you pointed to Libra. “Doctor, first. What’s the issue?”

“Robin, the heat inside that volcano is far more intense than anything you’ve experienced. Such temperatures will drain you of energy that’s already dwindled because of the baby.” Libra said, Morgan having informed you all that he knew he was growing inside you.

“I’ve managed in freezing temperatures and Plegian deserts. I can handle a volcano.” You said, though those words sounded fantastic, even to you. 

“You’re going into the second trimester, and your hormonal imbalance is going to affect how you function far worse than before. Putting the strain on your body this way is could be detrimental to the baby’s well-being. While it's for the best of the army, it's in _your_ best interest to find another way.”

“I understand, Libra. But the army’s already mobilized, and Yen’fay’s only so far away. He’s closing in and I can't risk any lives at this point in the war. Besides, I’ll have Frederick and Morgan assigned to me at all times.”

“I can protect you against enemies, but nature is something even I can’t stop.” Frederick spoke up, brows knitted together. “Aside from that, surely you don’t plan on ignoring a doctor’s advice, do you?”

“If it means keeping the army together, I’ll give it a try.” You told him with the edge that signaled you weren’t backing down. 

“And if something happens to you? What of your family?” 

“Nothing’s going to happen. I’ve already accounted for the heat. I’ll do everything in my power to stick to solid ground, where it’s cooler and farthest from magma. That’s my plan for the entire army, actually.”

“And you’re certain it will work?” Frederick checked, unconvinced by your plan. You nodded slowly, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Of course I am. Have a little faith in your wife, why don’t you.” You smiled, which lead to an eye-roll when he maintained his frown, “If it really bothers you, let Morgan review my plans. He’ll tell you how foolproof it is.”

“I-I don’t know, Mother. I don’t think this is a wise decision, regardless…” Morgan trailed off. But that was as far as he got; you shoved the tactics book chock full of your plans into his hands, insisting he check it over.

“I’ll prove you’re wrong if you’ll read them.” You repeated. He sighed softly, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this. And so he checked. He skimmed them over, and over and over, your personal doctor and husband waiting with baited breath to tell them it wouldn’t work.

“...She’s right.” Morgan slowly said, and Frederick visibly slumped. “Looks like we’re headed to the volcano.”

“Demon’s Ingle won’t be a problem, I assure you.” You said, looking to the men. “We’ll be able to get through and everything will be fine. It’ll be over before you know it, I promise.”

“I...will hold you to that.” Frederick murmured, and you smiled up at him.

“Good,” You replied, grasping his arm, “Because you’re my official escort. I’m sure you don’t mind if I tag along on Hebert, right?”

“I would have it no other way.” Frederick agreed, carefully hoisting you onto the horse. “Morgan, Libra, I trust you will be safe?”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Libra assured him. The four of you headed for the looming mountain then, each of you feeling a mixture of tension, excitement and adrenaline coursing through your bodies. The army was just ahead, and your enemies? They waited over the horizon.

~*~

It was going better than expected, dare you say it.

The volcano was hot, but there were at least half the soldiers you anticipated, with their strategic placement around the necessary pathways being the only obstacle. Yen'fay was a powerful leader, which you were certain of. But that wasn't enough to deter you from the victory you meticulously planned.

"Basilio!! You're on my left, understand?? Take the left flank and take down the opposition!!" You ordered the Khan, breaking the path open for him to barrel through. "We can't lose sight of Yen'fay!"

"I won't allow us to." Frederick assured you, slamming his lance into the heads of two different soldiers. You quirked an eyebrow, wrapping your arms around his waist as he powered through the rest of the villains standing in your way.

"That's a first. You're actually going along with one of my plans?"

"If Morgan agrees with it, I have little reason to say no. Besides, you've made it obvious you don't care what I have to say on the matter. I figured it would be better to simply do what I can to get it over with."

"Oh, dear. You're still hung up on that?" You mused, following his lance attack with a swing of your sword. "I know you're looking out for me, but don't you think you're a little over the top?"

"I'm doing what I must to keep you and the baby safe, Robin. Gods forbid I try to do that much." 

"I know, I know. I'm grateful for your devotion, trust me." You chuckled, letting him continue on the path towards the Myrmidon. "Just wait. As soon as the war's over, I guarantee I'll let you dote on me as much as you like. That, and I'll even listen to everything you say."

"It sounds too good to be true." Frederick responded with a fierce expression, "But I'll hold you to that as soon as we get there!"

"Don't worry; it'll be here before you know it." You promised. The banter paused when Chrom called out, Say'ri sprinting alongside him with intent to attack. 

"We're closing in on the general! Do we mobilize?!" Chrom shouted, Falchion gripped tightly. You nodded, signaling both of them move forward.

"Try and talk him down!! Say'ri, Chrom moves with you. If you can't bring Yen'fay around, you engage. If that doesn't work, Chrom's covering you!"

"Understood, Tactician!!" She called back, and the pair was gone in an instant. You, Frederick and Morgan got to handle the rest of the remaining soldiers who were bent on fighting to the end. You handled the rest of the Shepherds, ordering them with lightning reflexes and every opening being quenched by your decisive powers. 

It wasn't long before Basilio called out to you, waving his axe in the air. "Left flank clear!!"

And on your right, Morgan claimed your attention with a victorious call, "Right flank clear!!"

"And center flank?" You looked to Frederick, holding up your tome with intention to give the flare that notified the army it was over. Frederick nodded to you, running his weapon through the last of the enemy. "Center flank clear!!"

Now all that was left was the elusive general.

"Frederick, they're going to need our help." You told him, "From what I understand, Yen'fay is stronger than Say'ri. And it looks like she couldn't talk him down." You told him, watching the swords clashing in the distance.

"Can you handle him?"

"Can _you?"_

"...A better question." Frederick rushed for the battle. "I will do what I can."

Hebert galloped up to the fight, snorting furiously as he powered through the sweltering heat that had begun to close in on the army. But everything was coming to a close, and they were going to be the ones to end it. You released a hand from his side to bring down the thunder, separating Yen'fay from Say'ri and entering the battlefield with blood on the mind.

"Robin? What are you doing?!" Say'ri demanded, staring as you galloped through.

"He's beyond reason, Say'ri! I won't make you end this. Take Chrom and rally the troops! We're leaving soon!" You told her, grasping your husband as he engaged the waiting general. Yen'fay's hands were steady on the blade, despite exhaustion eating at his limbs. 

His hair was long and white, slightly frayed because of his fight. Yet you could see how tense he'd become. Seeing the pain in Say'ri's eyes, the fierce atmosphere inflaming the senses drove you to end it quickly.

"And you wish to challenge me?" Yen'fay finally spoke for the first time, and you heard the meaningless conviction in his voice. Frederick didn't pause for his response. Instead, he charged forward at even greater speed.

"Anyone who abandons his family for selfishness is not a challenge. They are _defeated!"_ Frederick roared, his spear violently thrust at his enemy. You watched Yen'fay parry weakly, his will to fight dwindling with every strike. Something about the battle was off; it was as if he didn't want to. As if he didn't want to live. 

_"Pick a god and pray!"_

The battle was over before you could question it further.

You stared as his body fell. The loss of the enemy's general resonated with you in a way you didn't understand. The idea he didn't want this...he didn't want to fight. It struck a chord with you, the very feeling you suppressed since the beginning of the war.

You didn't want to fight, either. No matter how much you told yourself it was necessary.

"...It's over." Frederick exhaled heavily, dismounting. You allowed him to lower you to the ground, eyes transfixed on Yen'fay as blood poured from his wound. "Looks like your plans were solid, after all." 

Frederick's comment made brought you back together, and you shook your head. "That honestly went better than expected...I wonder why."

"Yen'fay didn't wish to fight." Say'ri stated the obvious, returning her sword to its scabbard with an unspoken sorrow. "I could see it in the way he moved. Or rather, the way he didn't. I do not want to believe it. He betrayed his people to fight for the enemy. If he did it with no honor, then why-?"

"Perhaps there's a reason." You offered, managing a small smile. Yet her expression did not change.

"I will never understand why he joined Walhart... His reasons die with him." She murmured, voice choked with grief. You took a step towards her with the intent to comfort her, but you never got the chance. 

For your feet were suddenly swept out from under you. 

"But oh, what a death it was!!"

A squeaky, shrill voice echoed through the volcano. A blast of orange magic burst into the middle of your group. Your place beside Frederick was suddenly empty when a pair of hands snatched you from where you stood. Frederick's eyes widened in shock. His face paled.

"Robin-?!" Chrom shouted. 

You were gone.

"What happened?? Where did she go?!" Frederick demanded, looking around wildly. His heart pounded, feeling everything around him grow colder. He was panicking. _"Robin!!"_

"It was so splendid, in fact, I feel we should have another!" The voice returned, so close it was as if its owner was behind them. The Shepherds swiveled around to find a short, effeminate man standing on a jagged rock above them, holding a knife of magic to your throat.

Frederick's heart stopped. Excellus had you.

He was going to kill you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late-ish update; meant to post yesterday but I might have gone to bed a little early. Thankfully I've got enough energy to do this chapter and plenty more. 
> 
> I wonder what's going to happen to you, next? :'D


	14. Transition of Tactics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There was a storm brewing in Frederick’s eyes. It was full of fear."

The fear that struck Frederick’s body was indescribable. A tsunami of horror washed over him, freezing him in place. The dastard’s arm wrapped around your chest, the other holding the knife to your throat. You were scared. He wanted nothing more than to kill the man and take you into his arms.

“Let her go!!” Chrom shouted, advancing towards the cliff with intent to injure. Excellus laughed at the prince’s fury, bringing you closer. 

“As if I’d listen to you. Another step and your precious tactician dies.” He replied, hands trembling with excitement. 

“How _dare_ you!” He roared, but you were the one who stopped him.

“Chrom, don’t move.” You forced out. Excellus snickered.

“Tactician’s orders, boy. That goes for all of you! I see even a finger _twitch_ and her head’s off!!” 

Frederick gripped his lance so tight his knuckles turned white. It was difficult to contain the quaking in his own hands, but he was more desperate to keep his composure than lose you to a shudder. 

Excellus’ eyes narrowed, surveying the frozen army in the volcano. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it? Now, drop your weapons.”

“What?!” Chrom looked ready to protest with full force. But a sharp clang of metal connecting with rock silenced him. To his left, Frederick dropped his lance. It fell to the ground, sending a shockwave through the Shepherds.

Their captain was complying with the enemy.

“Frederick?” Chrom studied his friend, searching for an answer to the unprecedented response. Frederick couldn’t look at him. He was laser-focused on you. On the fearful expression that grew when you watched him.

“Do as he says.” Frederick said so softly it may as well have been unsaid. It excited the enemy more. “He’s serious.”

“But we can’t just-”

“Father.” Lucina interrupted him, placing her Falchion on the ground. She looked just as tense as Frederick, and even more reluctant.

“Smart girl.” Excellus chuckled, “Certainly more clever than that general you slayed. Poor Yen’fay, fighting to protect his sister from certain death, only to be killed by her hands! How it never occurred to you he was trying to protect her is far from me, but who am I to judge? The bonds of family grow weak in times of war.”

Morgan tensed, looking to his father. His tome took its place beside the abandoned lance. “...Father, what do we do?” He whispered, panicked by the chaotic situation. Frederick couldn’t respond.

“We did what you asked. Let her go.” Chrom demanded.

“I don’t know about that.” Excellus sighed, waving the knife around. You swallowed thickly. “I’m afraid there are too many interested parties for me to just hand her _back.”_

“Release her.” Frederick finally spoke, his voice like fire ripping across a dry field. “Release her, _now!!”_

“Ooh, looks like I’ve touched a nerve!” Excellus laughed, backing away. “But like I said, there were a few others who claimed her before you did. And it’s solely my duty to make sure I deliver her!”

“No!”

“Farewell, Ylisseans! I’ll see you at the capital.” He grinned maliciously. A spell circle illuminated under your feet. Your eyes grew wide. Frederick burst forward.

“STOP!!"

“Frederick-!” You were silenced by a burst of light. The Shepherds cried out, shielding their faces from the blinding white. When the dust settled, you were gone.

_‘No.’_

Frederick’s face went slack, realizing what just happened. He came to a halt, just in front of the rock. He was within arm’s reach. 

_‘No, no, no-’_

“Chrom!” Basilio ran forward, “Where have they gone?”

His demand was met with a string of curses, the prince pulling at his hair. “I-I don’t know. He just-- He stole her. He _took_ her!”

“M-Mother…!” Morgan pressed a hand to his mouth, staring at the spot you'd been a second earlier.

_‘This can’t be happening.’_

Say’ri moved forward, her expression muddled with confusion. “He must have taken her to the capital. He mentioned it, and that’s our next target. That’s where Walhart is waiting for us.”

“It’s likely that’s the ‘other party’ that craven spoke of, too.” Flavia guessed, gripping her sword tighter. “Gods, _dammit all!_ How are we to fight without Robin? We’re barely skating by as it is!”

“We have to find her.” Frederick said, turning to face them. "W-we have to reach the capital and get her back.” 

“But _how?”_ Chrom asked him. Frederick fell silent again, brow furrowed and eyes dark. 

“I don’t know.” He replied, striding to his lance and picking it back up, “But we have to. She’s in danger.”

“We know, Captain.” Lon’qu huffed, starting for the exit. “We’ll figure out a way to get her back.”

“No, she’s in more danger than- It’s not just-”

“-Father.” Morgan interrupted him this time, grasping Frederick’s arm. Frederick looked down at him, and for a second Morgan forgot how to speak. There was a storm brewing in Frederick’s eyes. It was full of fear.

“We’re going to find her.” Lon’qu repeated, and to their surprise, he pointed at Morgan. “Using him.”

“M-me?” Morgan’s eyes widened, feeling those of the entire army train on him. He looked around, seeing the mix of confusion from soldiers around them. 

“You’re her son. She spends more time with you on tactical nonsense than anyone else. If anyone can get us to the capital in one piece -more or less-, it’s you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Chrom exhaled, looking to him. “Morgan’s still young. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, especially at once. We shouldn’t make any hasty decisions until we’re out of this Hell, at least.” He reasoned, weary of the event.

“I second that.” Basilio agreed, gesturing to the rising magma behind them. “The volcano’s beginning to talk, and we’re losin’ ground. Best we focus on escaping before we’re all charred to bits.”

Basilio’s words rang through the army, coercing the Shepherds into making a quick escape. They followed after their leaders, exhausted and shocked they were missing their tactician.

“Lon’qu wants _me_ to lead the army?” Morgan whispered, standing beside his father as soldiers walked past. “I-I’ve barely lead anyone in my whole life! At least, I think. I...I don’t know.”

Frederick’s gaze fell to the ground. He was more concerned with the fact you were missing. The image of your face, alight with terror, just before you completely disappeared without a trace. His heart dropped into his stomach. He had to find you.

“Father?” Morgan tapped his armor, “Father, are you listening??” 

“Hm?” Frederick grunted, snapping out of his stupor. Morgan pursed his lips, holding his tome to his chest.

“I know you’re worried about Mother and the other me. But I don’t think obsessing over it silently is going to help. We’re still inside the volcano.” Morgan attempted to reason. Frederick nodded wearily, taking to his horse.

“Forgive me if I’m more upset about this than others.” Frederick replied in a grim tone. “After we leave, we find Robin.”

“We?”

“You lead us where we need to go, and I’ll cut down whoever stands in our way.” Frederick told him, expression dangerously dim. “Understand?”

“You think I should lead, too?” Morgan asked, incredulous. Frederick offered a hand for him to take, hoisting him onto Hebert.

“You're the only one who can. No one else would be appropriate.” Frederick explained shortly before setting Hebert into motion. “If I did, there wouldn’t be a town unscathed.”

“I-I see…” Morgan murmured, gripping his father’s waist as they rode out the volcano. Something about Frederick’s voice told him he wasn’t kidding. Frederick would kill for you. He had every intention to.

~*~

When you returned to the sweet, sweet ground, it felt like your organs were turned inside out and shoved back into your body. Excellus paid no heed to your obvious teleportation sickness, dumping you onto the stone of an unforgiving cell. 

“Don’t you worry, my dear. Your friends and family will pursue. Until they show up, let’s keep your meddlesome self here. You can sit in your cell until it’s time to come out, like a good girl. Understand?” 

“Where am I?” You demanded, fighting to stand to your feet. The disoriented feeling wasn’t unlike the sickness you experienced. “Why did you bring me here?”

“So you’d stop making me look like an utter fool in front of the Conqueror. Why else?” Excellus hissed, his loopy tone taking a turn. His eyes glinted with a bloodthirsty hatred, shoving you to the floor before storming towards the door. “You’re causing too much trouble! Walhart has begun to grow suspicious of my failures, all because of some little witch finding a way around all my plans. All of them!!”

“Maybe you should review your work.” You spat, bringing an arm around your stomach, pushing into the wall farthest from the psychotic tactician. 

Excellus snickered. “There’s no need for me to worry, now. The only thing that could possibly outsmart me is behind prison bars. Now you’re in the hands of Walhart, and who knows what’ll happen? Of course, he’s not the only one interested. No, there are a few others who’re intrigued by you, tactician.”

You swallowed thickly, already thinking up those few. “Validar” sat at the top of your list. You had a feeling he was pulling strings to get you here. He had come to you before. What was to stop him from getting you, now?

“And you’re going to pawn me off to them?” You guessed. Excellus shrugged, tilting his head back an forth.

“Not exactly. You have a little time. Until the war ends, you’re stuck here. Consider it your new waiting room until it’s safe to bring you out. Whether that’s through the decimation of your country, or their peaceful surrender...ah, who are we kidding? They’ll die regardless!” He laughed again, a wretched sound that made you want to tear your ears off. He was disgusting in every sense of the word. 

“Chrom’s not going to let you get away with this. They’re going to find me and destroy you, Walhart and everything you took from Say’ri’s people! Your plan will fail, just like the rest!” You shot at him. Excellus spat into your cell.

“Without you?? You really think it’s going to work without _you?!_ They’re _nothing_ without your skills! We’ve seen it since you started! There’s no chance they’ll break into the capital, not without you as their leader.”

It was hard to breathe. So you were in the capital after all. Walhart’s prison in the bowels of his castle. That meant things were about to get much worse for the army. No matter the cost, they would rescue you. You found it difficult to follow the rest of Excellus’ words. Something about “hopelessness” and “rotting until you died”. All you focused on was staying alive and protecting yourself.

Protecting the little one whose foot tapped suddenly against your hand. 

The family _Frederick_ would stop at nothing to save. Considering the odds stacked against you, you weren’t sure that was a good thing for anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! I finished a chapter on a Thursday, for once! I apologize for the slow updates, life's been really hectic lately. I'll be sure to get more done this week and next, especially now that the story's picking up. I promise it's about to get plenty more amazing.


	15. Coming Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing every detail of the tiny outfit."

You lost track of days after the first few. It wasn’t hard for you to figure out how to tell time; two sorry excuses for meals each day. One day, then two, then three…news of the Ylisseans crossing the territory came through nervous whispers among guards. 

Five days…seven…nine…? 

The meals came in strange increments, and you couldn’t tell what day was what. There were some you were sure they forgot you. The skin clung tighter to your body, your gut more empty than usual. 

Your hands pressed against the growing bump; this couldn’t be good for the baby. You were hardly able to eat enough for yourself, let alone for two. The lack of food was affecting your ability to think, to plan your escape. Your will to do anything. 

Excellus was reducing you to nothingness. 

You considered begging, trying to end your hunger, but what good would that do? You sighed, pressing against the cold wall. You felt awful, probably smelled worse, and you were turning into a living, pregnant skeleton. Your dreams were few and far between. Some of war, some of friends…mostly Frederick and Morgan. 

_‘Where are you two?’_ You asked yourself multiple times a day. You were having more trouble coming up with escape plans by the minute. All you wanted was sleep and wolf down whatever food they might give you. It was a sad, sad world you were living in. 

_‘What am I even supposed to do?’_ Came the question that always followed. Walhart and Excellus had you in their hands. Validar and Aversa were waiting for you just around the corner. And Grima…the tale of Lucina’s dire future…you could feel it coming to fruition. 

It was nothing you wanted to think about, yet it crept into your mind often. The uncertainty of what was to be rattled you most. You needed something to work with. Anything. 

You pressed into the shadows, hearing the footsteps of mumbling guards with what was presumed to be your meal. The coat was wrapped tight around you, concealing the baby. 

_Just hold out until Frederick comes. Just hold out for him.'_ You thought, listening to the tin plate clatter to the ground.

~*~ 

Frederick’s fist slammed into the table. His body began to crumble. Fifteen days without you was affecting him more than he’d admit. But the others could see it, and it was freaking them out. Morgan glanced up from his work, mapping out his plans to take down the castle. 

Currently, all of them were failures- hence Frederick's concern. 

"There must be an opening. There has to be." Frederick growled, looking over the maps. His tone unsettled Morgan, but drove him to work harder for the sake of his father. "Maybe we overlooked something. Shall we check, again?" 

"Careful, Frederick." Chrom sighed, "Say'ri pulled strings to get what we have. It'd bode ill if we tore it by accident because of your...concern." He warned carefully. Frederick's jaw set, avoiding the gazes of everyone in the tent. 

The Shepherds eyed him warily, and he was careful in maintaining his composure. "Forgive me, milord. But it's been two weeks. I...fear for Robin's wellbeing." Chrom nodded in understanding. "As do the rest of us. But you can't forget all the headway we've made. We're already on top of the capital. All we have to do is figure out how to get in, and Walhart won't stand a chance." 

Frederick sighed. He knew he was right. They literally ripped through Valm's countryside. Rumors of the Ylissean’s power reached their ears through Chon'sin warriors. Say'ri had informed the army what happened; how Excellus used them. Naturally, they were angry, which was good for them. 

"That's what we said four days ago." Frederick grimaced, clasping his hands tightly. "We've been in the same place for four days, saying the same things with nothing to show for it. Milord, I cannot continue to stand by and merely pray!" 

"Then don't." Cordelia grasped his shoulder. Frederick swiveled to face her, seeing an expression just as ferocious as hers. "With all due respect, Captain, pacing around and banging your fist isn’t helping. If you're concerned we’re in danger, perhaps you should scout the camp. ...Sir." 

Cordelia's words were cold, but true. She released her grip on his arm and stepped back, returning to her place between a shocked Panne and frightened Stahl. Frederick couldn't believe it. 

"You think...I should-" 

"-Take patrol around the camp? A fantastic idea." Chrom interrupted, rising from his seat. "It would do good to take some time for yourself, Frederick. Get your mind off things." 

"You…believe this would help, milord?" Frederick asked slowly, not fond of the idea of leaving this in the hands of others. Leaving the lives of his family in the hands of others. 

Chrom hesitated, but it was obvious he didn’t want Frederick there. “It would be in our best interest. It’s important we be able to focus, and well…” 

“I’m hindering the process. I understand.” He interrupted, turning on his heel. His armor felt heavier, as he left. This wasn't what he planned, at all. 

All he wanted was to help, he remarked bitterly, returning to his tent. Analyzing every last detail, desperate to find something missed. And they were kicking him out because he was over-concerned for your safety? 

_‘If only they knew about the baby.’_ He thought, frowning as he pushed back the canvas. _‘If Robin would let me, perhaps- perhaps this would’ve been resolved.’_ But he knew better. All the trouble you’d gone to, just wasted? He doubted your thankfulness if he let it slip. _‘Besides, telling them would likely frustrate them more.’_

Frederick sank onto his cot, running a hand through unkempt hair. A sigh escaped his lips. The silence was deafening, without you there. No scratching of a quill across parchment, soft mumblings of your plans the next day. No half-hearted humming, no turning of pages. Just empty, sad silence. 

Gods, he worried about you. He was terrified something was wrong. Nightmares didn't stop plaguing his sleep; two weeks full of fearful ideas that you were hurt, the baby was in danger, that you were both lost in the wrath of the Conqueror- 

Silently, he reached for the unfinished onesie, pulling it from its safe spot in the crate. He gazed down at his work, the carefully knitted fabric soft and comforting in his hands. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing every detail of the tiny outfit. He imagined his son wearing it in the winter, keeping him warm and safe. The smile that should've touched his lips was forgotten when he remembered it might never happen. 

Frederick's hands closed around the tiny thing. All the more reason for him to find you. He'd do everything in his power to make sure he'd save you. He'd tear the capital apart if he'd find you. Slowly, Frederick rose, stroking the soon-to-be finished baby clothes with a gentle thumb. It was placed lovingly in the crate again, before he left. 

Until he convinced Chrom having him help was better than sending him off, Frederick took his "duty" with grudging obedience. Someone should patrol the camp, after all. Hebert was mounted as he took his lance, making his way across the camp borders. Thankfully, he didn't go far. 

He made it a lap and a half around when Morgan suddenly burst into his field of vision, eyes wide and incredulous. 

"Father!" He cried, breathlessly rushing to catch Frederick. "F-Father, I have good news!" No sooner had the words slipped from his mouth did Frederick light up, his heart pounding hopefully in his chest. 

"Did you find her?" He demanded without a moment lost, slipping off his horse to meet his son. Morgan shook his head, and a grin crossed his lips despite the obvious disappointment Frederick showed. 

"Better! I found a way to break down the capital, head on." Morgan replied, determination flashing behind tired eyes. Frederick's brow furrowed, unsure what to think of Morgan's sudden excitement. "Follow me! We need you back in the council." 

"What do you need me for? It was my understanding I wasn't helping." 

"Well, we need your help, now. Someone's gonna have to keep the new troops under strict control, you know?" Morgan reasoned, much to the confusion of his father. Morgan didn't say another word, taking Frederick's hand and ushering him into the council tent he was exiled from a couple hours before. 

"Good, you found him." Chrom smiled at his friend, looking a lot more relieved than he had the last two weeks. Frederick bowed quickly before his lord, until Morgan pulled him into the tent completely and pushed him forward. "We've got some great news." 

"So I've heard." Frederick brushed off his armor, straightening himself up. "What exactly is going on?" 

"Say'ri received a letter shortly after you left." Chrom began, gesturing to the parchment set atop the endless array of maps. "It was from the current general of the remaining Chon'sin battalion. They have offered their services to us!" 

"What??" Frederick's eyes widened, staring at the hopeful expressions on the Shepherd's faces. "How can that be? That is, why would they suddenly offer such a thing? They were our enemies not so long ago. How can we be sure this is not a trap of some kind?" 

"It isn't, Captain." Say'ri told him fervently, holding up the letter. "They have realized the error of their ways. After seeing my brother's death, they...they realized what Walhart was truly after. That Excellus is a lying rat, and had no intention of returning our homeland to us. They wish to overthrow him, just as we do." 

"So they've agreed to a truce?" 

"Better!" Morgan showed him the letter, pointing to a single phrase at the bottom of the paper, "They want to join forces with us, for however long it takes to defeat him! They wanna be our allies!" 

"That _is_ good news." Frederick admitted, still in shock. "And when will we see these warriors join our forces?" 

"Within the next three days, at most. With any luck we'll have them here on the morrow." Chrom told him, grinning brightly. "Isn't this a lucky turn of events?" 

"Lucky indeed." Frederick replied. Though he wouldn't say it aloud, deep down he still felt a hint of suspicion. The fact the Chon'sin battalion suddenly wanted to join them didn't exactly sit well with him. However, it was the hope that they could storm the capital together that kept him from speaking. "And they truly have such amazing strength that they could lay siege Walhart's castle?" 

"With our help, it's possible." Morgan told him seriously, "I ran the numbers. The Chon'sin aren't exactly a large group, but if they combine with us, it'll be just enough to overwhelm what little remains of Walhart's army. If we take the capital now, they'll barely stand a chance!" 

"And Morgan will be able to achieve this goal." Say'ri said, a proud hand placed on his son's shoulder. "He is an intelligent young man, truly fit to be a tactician. I don't doubt for a moment we will succeed." 

"Then I suppose I'll have to agree." Frederick responded with a small smile, nodding to his comrades. "In that case, Shepherds, shall we prepare for our oncoming visit? We'll need to have the weapons stores checked, and likely increase our medical inventory." 

"We'll get started on that right away, Captain." Chrom assured him. The surge of hope increased ten-fold, seeing the immediate reaction of his friends. They were all bursting with excitement, ready to end this war once and for all. Chrom rallied them with a raised arm, crying, "Come on, everyone! The sooner we're prepared, the sooner we get our friend back!" 

The words resonated in Frederick's heart as they dispersed, hurrying out of the council and off to prepare. It was finally happening. A fortnight of nothing but prayer, nightmares and endless worrying, and it was finally coming to an end. 

They would rescue you from the Conqueror, and the war would be over. He'd finally be able to take you home. 

His family could go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, you guys. It's been weeks since I uploaded this thing! I'm so sorry for the wait. Life just refuses to stop being so hectic. Thanks for your patience! I'll be getting this story together soon. :D


	16. Retrieval and Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Frederick would’ve recognize the pig-faced captor of his wife anywhere.  
> 'Excellus.' He growled, eyes narrowing. 'Where is she?'"

“How’s my little gutter rat doing, this fine morning?”

Excellus’ less than pleasant voice echoed across the prison, giving you a wake-up call you could really do without. Your arms drew your knees to your chest, hiding any sign of the growing baby. 

It was really beginning to show; you were crossing into the fourth month, and were even more at risk than before.

So hearing his voice wasn’t easing your nerves.

“Go to Hell.” You snapped. Excellus laughed, however his snickers were lacking the usual sadistic humor.

“Funny you should say that, Tactician; that’s where I plan to send _you_ when this is over.” Excellus sneered, “There have been rumors of the capital being targeted. Rumors, nothing more. So if your little army thinks it stands a chance, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“So you’ve said.” You replied, emotionless. His eyes glimmered in the darkness, and threw a moldy roll into your cell. 

“Oh, I’m aware. I just thought to remind you, before your hopes got too high. They’ll try to rescue you, if they show up. I’ll do anything to keep them away, even if that means slaughtering them like pigs. That little king and his sister, and the coward who threw down his lance-”

“-Frederick is _no coward!”_ You bellowed suddenly, standing with whatever strength you had left. “He’s ten times the man _you_ are, cowering behind the Conqueror in hopes of power- you’re a greedy, disgusting craven!!”

“Say whatever you like, deary.” Excellus sighed, flicking the bars. “You’re stuck here, regardless. The Ylisseans don’t stand a chance, and that’s that. It’s been a nice chat, though. I do hope we can have more in the future.”

“Don’t count on it.” You growled, crushing your only source for sustenance in your hand. You wanted to throw it, but something told you that wasn’t a great idea.

Excellus turned on his heel, but not before giving you a mocking bow. “Until later, milady. I’ll be by to torment you with news of their loss whenever it-“

_BOOM_

“-Ends.” Excellus hissed, head snapping towards the rattling ceiling. His steps faltered, eyes wide with confusion. Yours narrowed.

“That wouldn’t happen to be them, would it?”

“Impossible.” Excellus whispered fiercely, grabbing a soldier who was rushing into the prison. “You!! What was that noise?!”

“I-it’s the Ylisseans, sir! They’ve breached our defenses!”

“WHAT?!” He exploded, not unlike the blast that shook the prison. “How could you let this happen?!”

“I-it was the army, sir! They’ve gathered reinforcements! The Chon’sin militia-”

“-NO!”

“T-they’ve joined the Ylisseans. They’re past the borders and have breached the throneroom. They’ve engaged the Conqueror, and battling as we speak! Lord Walhart ordered me to bring you there. It is of utmost importance!”

“All right, all right, fine!” He snapped, “Alert the rest of the guard. Anyone who’s not in the throne room, get them there _now!”_ He barked, before turning back to you. “But you’re to stay here. I want this wretch extracted and moved to a different location.”

“What?” You stared at him in shock.

“She’s not to be discovered! Leave no trace, understand?”

“Understood, sir!” 

“Don’t you dare!” You shouted, grabbing the bars as you raced forward. “I’m staying right where I am!”

“Not a chance!” Excellus grinned maliciously, despite the sheer panic in his eyes. “I’ve got too many interested parties to let you escape. You’re going to be sold, damn you, and that’s the end of it!!” He sang, starting for the corridor.

You threw that bread at him for all it was worth. It was somewhat liberating, watching it bounce off the back of his head, stale crust rattling his small brain. Unfortunately the liberation was dwarfed by his anger. The man swiveled around, maniacal anger alight in his fury.

“How _dare you!!”_ He shrieked, and flung a spell from Bolganone. The last thing you saw was a burst of flames coming at you. Your arms instinctively rose, but the force of fire was too great. Everything went dark.

~*~

The frontal assault was tricky as they’d feared, but thanks to Morgan’s preparation they broke through. Lon’qu was fairly impressed, but Frederick glowed with pride. No matter what others thought of the “suspicious” amnesiac, he was proud to call him his son.

“Walhart’s retreating into the citadel!” Say’ri shouted as the remaining guards crumpled to the bloodied grass. “We must move! He cannot be allowed to regroup!”

“Everyone, let’s go!” Chrom ordered, pushing the Shepherds forward. He launched himself into the fray, Frederick trailing behind him. His lance was hot in his hands, aching to take down the citadel. 

The castle where you were held. Morgan was attached to his side, looking just as excited. They were going to rescue you, no holds barred.

“What’s our plan, Tactician?” Lissa asked, sounding more lighthearted than anyone else. Morgan managed to skim his notes, despite the book’s endless shaking as he ran.

“Um- Chrom is taking the helm, with Say’ri and Cordelia leading the frontal assault! I’ll be guiding from the vest- no, the _west,_ and Father will be in charge of rescuing Mother!”

“Come again?” Chrom’s brow furrowed, “You mean to separate us?”

“It’s only temporary!” Morgan assured him, “I know it’s vital we have our strongest forces with us when Walhart’s engaged. But rescuing Mother is just as important as winning this war. That’s why Father has to save her as soon as possible!”

“It’s a risky play, but I’ll be accompanying him.” Lucina stepped in, nodding to her father. Chrom looked more concerned than before.

“We need both of you to stay with us! Especially you, Lucina. If something happens to you while we’re separated, I-”

“She will be with me, milord. I swear on my life, I’ll not let anything happen to the princess.” Frederick interrupted, “But we’re losing time. We will be swift in finding Robin and will return to battle as soon as possible.”

Chrom fell silent for a moment. “...You really think you can do it?”

“We’ve got to try.” Lucina replied. “If we wait until afterwards, there’s no telling what could happen. Chances are, Robin’s been hurt or worse. We can’t let her stay there any longer. And while we’re battling, she’ll be a sitting duck. If something happened to the castle, she’d be trapped.”

“...A fair point.” He begrudgingly admitted. He eyed them both warily, “If you’re...if you’re _certain_ you can achieve this, and rescue our tactician, then I allow it.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” Lucina promised, before taking hold of Frederick’s arm and letting him hoist her onto the horse. “We’ll be back before it’s over!”

“Bring Robin back.” Chrom replied, smiling at them. Then his face hardened, and he turned his sword toward the castle. “Shepherds!! CHARGE!”

With that, the battle began. 

Chaos erupted in the great hall, the walls ripped to shreds as magic bounced off them, burning to pieces whatever luxuries decorated the place. The Valmese struck left and right, doing what they could to push back the Shepherds. But it wasn’t enough.

Morgan’s strategy was flawless as he directed them, cutting through the barrage of warriors. Mages shot their spells with just as much fervor as the enemy. Their numbers were thin, and the Shepherds decimated the remaining population. 

It gave Frederick the perfect opportunity to find you, and he tugged on the reins. Hebert swiveled, galloping down the eastern corridor. Frederick was completely focused on finding the prison. Finding you inside it.

Frederick’s heels dug into the horse’s sides, pressing them faster as Lucina sliced away the opposition. The tip of his lance met with a number of soldiers, javelins thrown at those who dared nock their arrows in his direction.

No one was going to get in the way of rescuing you. He swore it to himself, and to you. The image of you safe in his arms and healthy, far from the dangers of war motivated him.

That motivation came to a screeching halt with a literal screech.

“FREEZE!!”

Hebert jerked to a stop, and the pair turned. A wild-eyed and panicked-looking man stood behind them, chest heaving with a tome in his shaking hands. Frederick would’ve recognize the pig-faced captor of his wife anywhere.

“Excellus.” He growled, eyes narrowing. “Where is she?”

“Not where you think she is!” Excellus grinned like a hideous demon. “You can _forget_ trying to save her. I’ll never let you win. I’ll never let you save your precious tactician!!”

“Incorrect.” Frederick glowered. The lance turned in his hands. “You _will_ be defeated.”

“By me.” Lucina slipped off Hebert’s back, standing before Excellus. “Sir Frederick, move ahead and find her. I’ll take care of this… _thing.”_

“You’re not going anywhere!!” Excellus roared, flipping open his tome. “You’ll never see her again!!”

“I’ll take my chances.” Frederick snapped, and urged Hebert forward. Excellus shrieked in rage, releasing a volley of fireballs at the knight. Lucina leapt in front of the assault, dispersing the flames with a swing of her divine blade. Excellus stared in horror.

“Go!!” She shouted, and charged the tactician. “I’ll finish this!”

Frederick didn’t question it. He raced onward, pushing Hebert even faster than before. The urgency was taut in his expression, jaw clenched as he navigated through the castle maze.

 _‘It should be down this hall… I know it’s here!’_ He abandoned Hebert when he found the stairwell, leading him into the belly of the castle. A javelin was gripped in his hands as he sprinted down the steps and into the dark, claustrophobic prison.

 _‘Perfect.’_ He thought, feeling a spark of hope as he pushed open the doors. You were here, somewhere. He broke into a sprint, swerving around the corner and finding himself in a room filled with cells. He was finally going to find you.

“ROBIN!!” He shouted your name, echoing in the empty space. He continued forawrd when there was silence. The seed of worry that had long since bloomed sprouted further, reaching his heart and hands. They trembled as he ran, brow furrowing more with every empty cell he rushed past. “Robin, where are you?!”

No response. 

“Gods, dammit all…” He muttered, hands clenched tight in frustration. They were all empty. Sad, cold and dark cells. “Robin, answer me!”

It only took a few minutes before he reached the other end, no Robin in sight. Frederick cursed; they’d been certain you were in there. Where else would they have kept you? He ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was losing time. You had to be here. He didn’t come all this way, tearing apart the countryside, just to lose you all over again.

He couldn’t go through that.

It was when that thought came, he noticed it. The faint glow of a candlestick glimmered down the way, on the far end of the prison. It appeared to be another exit. Frederick glared at the light, lips drawn in a thin line. Had the Valmese taken you out that direction? 

He hurried down the hall, pushing against the door. Sure enough, it was another corridor. And looking down the path, he found the scuff marks of dirty boots, as if someone was struggling to move forward. Almost as if he was carrying something heavy, hindering the process.

It hit him hard when he realized what happened.

 _“Dammit all!!”_ He cursed loudly, bursting down the corridor and following the trail. They knew his army was coming and moved you out of the cell to keep you away. The possibility of losing you again was very real.

Fortunately, not as real as he feared.

It was when he turned the corner he spotted a shadowy figure. A soldier, grunting as he dragged along a slumped, unresponsive person in his arms. Frederick’s eyes fell to the familiar pattern on the person’s sleeve; the purple eyes decorating your coat. His heart leapt into his throat.

_It was you._

“STOP!!” Frederick bellowed, obviously rattling the figure. They froze, swiveling around to see the knight sprinting towards him.

“W-who are you?!” They demanded, a man’s voice that was full of fear. Frederick saw your face, slack and contorted with pain. He came at the soldier with deadly speed. “Don’t take another step, o-or I’ll-”

He never finished the sentence. Frederick’s javelin was thrown, lodging itself dead center in the soldier’s throat. He crumpled to the floor, hostage falling with him.

Frederick darted forward just in time, catching you in his arms before you touched the ground. His eyes were alight with worry, hoisting you to his chest as he eased to the ground. Gingerly he held you, staring at the sorry state you had fallen into.

 _‘Oh, my heart.’_ The words echoed inside as he gazed upon you, feeling tears brim in his eyes. Despite the darkness, he could see how pale your face was. You were lighter than before, even with the baby weight. Your cheeks were gaunt, body thin and frighteningly frail. 

You looked exhausted, and in pain. It was the scariest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Robin… Robin, are you-?” He clenched his jaw, heart pounding as he searched for some sign of life. “Robin?”

He lowered you to the floor, pressing his fingers to your neck in search of a pulse. He hadn’t a moment to lose. Any form of breathing stopped, body waiting to find the signal that you were still with him. “Come on, Robin, please…”

And sure enough, there it was. A weak, minute pulse weakly thrumming to the beat of an unsteady heart. Frederick exhaled shakily, wind leaving him as relief flooded his system.

“Thank the gods…!” He whispered, lifting you into his arms, again. His forehead pressed against yours, face contorting with relief that overwhelmed him. He sniffed loudly, pulling you closer. A bittersweet smile touched his lips, realizing the worst was over. He found you.

Two weeks of torment, and you were safe in his arms again. Weak and unconscious, but safe. His lips touched your eyelids, nose and cheeks, desperately showering you with affection as he tried reassured his aching heart. 

_‘You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re alive...gods be praised!’_ Frederick rejoiced in his mind. He rose to his feet, nestling you against his chest as if you were fragile glass. You would need medical attention immediately...after the battle. The sooner he re-entered the fray, the sooner you’d get it.

He strode down the hallway, passing through the prison again and heading straight up the steps. Hebert was waiting for him, stomping anxiously as he was without his trusted rider. Carefully, Frederick lifted you into the saddle with him, settling you in his lap as he took up the reins.

You would have to be brought to safety, first. Wherever that was, he’d have to find it quickly. He couldn’t risk putting you in anymore danger. He refused to.

“Hold fast, Robin. You’ll be healed and back in camp in a matter of minutes.” Frederick promised, determination flashing in his eyes. Walhart would pay for the damage done. Him and Excellus, Validar and all the others who dared bring harm to his family.

They would see justice; and Frederick would deliver it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love getting these things done on time, amiright? I'll have the second part up either this coming Thursday or the next! By next//next Thursday I'll be out of school! Hurray!


	17. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The first thing you did was kiss him."

When you awoke, it was silent. No soldiers screaming, nobody flinging fire into your face, no dark, cold cell. There was nothing. 

Only the soft light of a candle, burning beside your cot. The canvas of the healing tent flickering in the warm glow. Your brow furrowed, realizing your head was pounding and your vision wasn’t all there. Everything blurred, and a spike of pain pierced your skull.

“Muh…” You groaned, throat on fire. Your eyes narrowed, biting your lip to keep from whimpering. You hadn’t felt this bad in prison. “Ugh.”

“Are you making all that noise, Robin?”

You paused at the sound of the familiar voice. That wasn’t Excellus or the guards. Rather, it was the calming tone of a priest who cared greatly for you.

“...Libra…?” You whispered, and sure enough, a head of flowing blonde hair came into view. Libra leaned over you, his hand squeezing yours.

“Welcome back, my dear friend. We’ve been worried about you.” He said. You felt tears building in your eyes, blurring your vision more than already. Slender fingers brushed them away. “Now, now. Save those for later.”

“S-sorry.” You croaked, trying to push yourself up. Your body refused to listen, instead leaving you on the mattress. Libra noticed, patting your shoulder sympathetically. 

“Don’t force yourself. You’ve only just awoken. Take your time.” He insisted. You pursed your lips, sinking into the pillow as you watched him move about. All you saw was his back and shoulders, watching as he prepared something.

“Where, uhm...what happened?” You asked groggily. Libra placed a cold cup in your hands.

“Drink, first. It’ll ease the pain.” He told you, waiting until you did before continuing. “Shortly after we breached the castle, Morgan sent Frederick and Lady Lucina to find you. She informed me that Excellus engaged them, but didn’t last long afterwards. Frederick retrieved you and left you in my care, saying something about ‘needing to finish the battle, himself’. It was quite valiant.” Libra chuckled, bringing a smile to your lips.

“I can imagine.”

“With their tactician missing, the Valmese were worse off than already. Lord Chrom made quick work of them, thanks to Morgan’s prowess. They put up a fight, but when Frederick entered the fray, well...let’s just say, it wasn’t much of a battle.”

“He did that much?” Your eyebrows rose, feeling the headache ebb away. Libra nodded deeply, smiling proudly.

“He was angry. I feel anyone would be the same if their wife was kidnapped, especially with your…” Libra glanced around, “Condition.”

You agreed solemnly. “Is there any chance I’ll be able to see him?” Libra pondered your question, lips turning down in thought.

“At the moment, he’s in the middle of a council in regards to Lady Lucina’s future, and how they plan to prevent it. I’m unsure if he’d be able to visit at this very moment...it’s my understanding it’s a very important conversation.”

“I can see why.” You agreed softly, tracing your finger around the top of the empty cup. “But if that’s the case, I suppose I could go visit him, myself.” You decided.

Libra looked amused. “I must advise caution, milady. It’s best if you rest and not strain yourself more than you have to. You were in an extremely strenuous situation, and I haven’t finished all the examinations to make sure neither of you were harmed.”

“Just fill me up with some good food and remedies once I come back. I just need to see him.” You half-joked, although it was obvious you were serious about seeing him. Libra understood, offering his hand to help you up once he caved into your determined expression. There was just no reasoning with you once your mind was set.

“At the very least, allow me to escort you.” He offered, which you gladly took. They were baby steps, your legs wobbly and aching from the lack of movement you’d experienced. But even if your movements were sluggish and clumsy, you were thankful to be able to _do it_ at all.

“Two weeks in that prison…” You whispered to yourself, “That’s a long time.”

“Indeed it is. Heavens know what it’s done to your health.” Libra said sadly, one arm firmly wrapped around your waist and his other hand clasping yours. “I thank the gods it wasn’t longer.”

Obviously, he wasn't the only one. Once you stepped out of the healing tent you were met with a barrage of Shepherds when they saw their tactician out and about. You managed to greet the few Shepherds who were bustling around camp, some in tears and others cheering loudly when they saw you up and moving. It was all blurry and unfocused, and you didn’t address them more than necessary. All you were focused on was finding Frederick. Your valiant, heroic knight.

Surely your friends would understand. Though your heart pounded in excitement, whether they did or not. You were dying to see Frederick. You needed him to know how much you missed him, that you needed to thank him, that you loved him more than anything in the world. Words you had thought over and over in your head while you were trapped in Walhart's prison, waiting to spill out.

“They’re just inside here.” Libra nodded to the large tent that concealed the waiting council, his grin wide. “Shall we?” 

“Let's.” You chuckled. Libra pushed the tent flap away, peeking into the meeting.

“Beg pardon, ladies and gentleman. I hate to interrupt, but there was someone rather anxious to see you all.” Libra stated, gaining the attentions of the serious, grim-looking group. Carefully, Libra pulled you into the room beside him.

And they exploded.

“Robin!” Chrom gasped, face alight with happiness. Frederick abruptly stood, brown eyes wide in shock. Your gaze locked with his, and a tired grin cracked onto your face. Although it was obscured by Sully, Cordelia and Lissa blocking his view, crowding around you in a flurry of excitement and euphoria.

“You’re awake!!” Lissa exclaimed, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down. “I can’t believe it! We’ve been worried sick about you, you silly goose!”

“I was makin’ sure nobody lost their heads while you weren’t around. It’s a tough job, y’know.” Sully huffed, arms crossed. “You owe me big time for it!”

“Nonsense.” Cordelia joined, “You were the one about to cry every time Robin’s name was mentioned.”

“Excuse me for bein’ worried!” Sully snapped. Her anger was curbed by Chrom and Lucina joining them, Lucina regarding you with a warm-ish smile.

“It’s good to see you awake again, Lady Robin.” She said simply, her father’s hand resting on her shoulder.

“Everyone’s been buzzing about when you’d finally wake up. It’s been a good couple of days, you know.” Chrom added, and you managed a solemn nod.

“I’m aware. All I can say is how sorry I am; if I’d been more careful, none of this would’ve happened in the first place.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Cordelia said, “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have won the war. ...Or rather, Sir Frederick wouldn’t have been given the strength to bring down Walhart.”

“Speaking of the Great Knight…” Chrom trailed off, looking back to his dear friend. The Shepherds parted to reveal a fidgeting Frederick, standing politely behind everyone and resisting the urge to push them all away.

“I believe we should give the two of them some time alone.” Libra spoke up, gesturing for the group to leave the tent. “Perhaps a break is in order. You can reconvene and discuss the end of the world once Robin’s back to health.”

“An excellent idea. Ladies?” Chrom opened the tent, letting all of them out. He looked back to Frederick, “Be gentle, Sir Knight. She’s only just awoken.”

“But of course, milord.” Frederick responded, the first time you’d heard his voice in seventeen days. He looked back to you, “I’ve nothing but gentleness.”

His response made Chrom smile, before he and the priest left the two of you alone. There were a few silent, still seconds, as if waiting for their footsteps to disappear before either of you dared move. And when they were gone, you managed to open your mouth.

“Oh, Frederick…” You finally whispered, visibly effecting the man. His mouth twitched, eyes narrowing in deep concern as he strode up to you. He stopped inches away from you, his hand cupping your cheek. Your body surged with warmth at the slightest touch, heart aching for the man.

"Robin-"

The first thing you did was kiss him.

He held you tightly the moment your lips touched, curling his hands around your body and pressing you as closely as he could without inciting harm. Your own wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss and pouring all the worry, all the relief and happiness and love that you had in your system.

When you broke away, both of your eyes were a little misty. You laughed softly, stroking his cheek with stiff fingers whose touch he relished.

“Robin...thank the gods you’re awake.” He murmured, voice low and breathless. “A-are you all right? How do you feel?”

“Much better, thanks to you and Libra.” You replied, reaching up to press your hand against his. Frederick inhaled sharply, eyes shut as he fought off whatever emotions surged within him. “You saved my life, Frederick. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“You mustn’t.” He shook his head, gazing down at you warmly. Yet in his eyes, you saw regret. “It was my fault. If I paid closer attention, perhaps I could have protected you before Excellus grabbed you. If I’d been faster…”

“I don’t think even you could’ve protected me from that.” You shrugged, leaning into his touch. “That’s the point of a surprise attack, after all.”

“Regardless, I...I failed you both.” He sighed shakily, forehead pressing against yours. “I swore to protect you, yet I’ve failed countless times. Your being kidnapped was the worst of it. I’m a failure as a knight, and your husband.” He whispered, brow furrowing so sorrowfully, you practically heard his heart break.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve protected me well...provided I didn’t run off.” You joked, running your hand through his hair. It was unkempt, due to him mussing it from the stress of searching for you.

He certainly wasn’t in his best state, that was for certain. If you didn’t know any better, you thought you saw the slightest stubble on his cheeks. Your fingers touched his skin, tracing his nose and lips. The tender sensations coaxed his eyes open, staring at you half-heartedly.

“You saved my life, Frederick.” You repeated, beaming up at him. “You defeated Walhart and ended the war with the Shepherds right behind you. I’d say you’ve done an excellent job.”

“The war is far from over.” Frederick said grimly, “But I appreciate your words all the same.” 

“Valm lost, didn’t it?” You chuckled softly, giving him a confused smile. “What on earth could you mean?”

Frederick averted his eyes elsewhere. He pulled away, hands dropping to your shoulders. “Forget I spoke; I’ve said too much, milady. But it’s nothing you need worry about.”

“Frederick-”

“Right now, we must focus on returning your strength.” He interrupted, arms looping around you and lifting you off the ground. “I’ll bother you with the details once you’re ready. Until then, your concern is to get better, for both your sakes.” He added, glancing at the small bump peeking from under your coat.

Your hand touched your stomach as you looked at your husband. “With your help, I’m sure we’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” He promised, pecking your forehead. “And we’ll begin by limiting all movement. To think Libra allowed you to walk here. Hasn’t he any idea of how dangerous that could be?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. Frederick remained ever wary, just like you hoped. Your hands clasped around his neck, holding close as he carried you back.

“Quite dangerous, indeed.” You agreed, resting your head against his chestplate. Frederick’s eyes flicked down to you, his lips quirking upward.

“I see the Valmese couldn’t crack your sarcastic nature.”

“Nothing ever could, _Freddybear.”_

“...So it would seem.”

For the following few days, Frederick barely left your side. Helping you eat nothing but the heartiest, healthiest meals, personally preparing your rations with the little one in mind. While he worried about baby Morgan, your future son took to entertaining you while his father floated around you.

The only reason Frederick ever left you alone was because Morgan and Libra forced him to leave, which you were glad for; even if he had the best intentions, Frederick’s endless fussing was still as suffocating as you remembered.

Thankfully, it didn’t last. Libra deemed you fit and healthy after those few days, commending your fairly proud husband on his excellent work. And with the clear for you to get back to work, the first thing you did was reform the council to discuss Lucina's important information on the future.

The future you wouldn't have in a few short weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is "I'm so sorry, you guys!!!"  
> I just graduated this last week, and so I'm officially out of high school! Yay! :D I've been extremely busy with a ten (yes, ten) hour babysitting job, four days a week with three (yes, _three_ ), kids. I've been tired and overwhelmed, and I've been a little skimped on time. But don't you worry; Ortu Actio will be back with a vengeance! We're closing in on the series' end, which'll be emotionally-charged, as I'm sure you can imagine.  
> So hang in there, ladies and gents! I promise it'll be worth the wait. <3


	18. Resentment and Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'All I can tell you is what Naga told us. Either you die, or the world goes up in flames. Those are our only options.'"

“Naga told us before we came here.” Lucina spoke in a grave tone, addressing the council before you. Frederick currently supported you heavily, your arms hooked together. He held you tightly, partially to ensure you didn’t fall over from exhaustion, the other from the building tension. 

“The identity of Grima’s vessel was Robin.” She continued, nodding in your direction. You found it difficult to comprehend, let alone react to what she said. 

“But...how?” You asked, the entire council’s eyes on you. Your friends and family all watched, seeing how your face paled at the realization. 

“You are the daughter of Validar, yes?” Lucina questioned you, to which you nodded numbly. “He’s the head of the Grimleal. His bloodline has been preparing a vessel through each new generation for centuries. You are the host they were searching for.”

“But...but- _how?”_ You repeated, your own voice like static in your ears. The world seemed to grow darker, and for a second, your body swayed. Frederick quickly caught you, looping an arm around your waist. 

“Robin, are you all right?” He asked worriedly, holding you close. You managed to nod, but your stare remained transfixed on Lucina. “...Perhaps we should do this at a later time. She’s not completely healed, and needs rest-”

“-No. I need to hear this.” You cut him off, steadying your feet. You could see how displeased he looked, obviously concerned. After all, hearing such news would rock anyone to their core. You could only imagine what Frederick thought when he heard it the first time.

“There are ways we can stop this before you become Grima. We still have time.” Lucina assured everyone, and gestured to the large map on the table. 

“Aside from sacrificing myself, which seems like the simplest option…” You murmured to yourself, earning a glare from your Great Knight, “What are you thinking?”

“To be frank, I...considered taking your life myself, when we first found out. It _would_ be the simplest option. However,” She continued when the Shepherds grew anxious, “After seeing how everyone cares for you, I decided it would be best to find another option. Unfortunately, these have a shorter time limit.”

“Please, go on.” Sumia urged her, peering at the map. Lucina pointed to a single location on the farthest corner of Ylisse; an unmarked spot you didn’t recognize.

“We awaken the Falchion’s true power. By receiving the Dragon’s blessing, we’ll have the power to defeat Grima. Father will be able to strike down the beast and end the battle once and for all.”

“And I am willing.” Chrom declared, resting his hand on the sword’s hilt. “If it means keeping my friends alive, I’ll slay Grima.”

“It won’t be easy.” Lucina sighed, “But I have confidence in you, Father. If we depart immediately, we’ll have a better chance at defeating the Grimleal before it’s too late.”

“Then we should make plans to leave immediately!” Virion decided, clapping his hands together. “Shall we save our future?”

“We shall.” Chrom grinned, looking over at you and Frederick. “Er, but will _you_ be able to handle another ride across the sea? It’s my understanding you had a bout of seasickness the last time.”

“Don’t worry.” You waved your hand dismissively. “I’ll survive so long as Frederick’s taking care of me.”

“I’ll be watching over Robin the entire time. I won’t leave her side for an instant.” Frederick chimed, squeezing your hand. Chrom’s smile never faltered, patting Frederick’s shoulder as he moved past.

“I don’t doubt that for a second. We’ll see you at the docks shortly then, I’m guessing?”

“Correct.” You smiled, before the group headed out. You waited until the tent emptied before turning to your husband, who seemed keen to get you out of there and back to a bedroll to rest. You, however, had ulterior motives. “Frederick, would you mind if I spoke to Lucina alone, for a moment?”

Frederick glanced at the princess, then to you. “For what reason?”

“I have a question I need to ask. A _private_ question.” You emphasized. Frederick pursed his lips, considering whether or not he wanted to leave you alone with her. Especially considering the confession Lucina had made. One did not simply leave his wife with the person who intended to kill her, after all.

“Please, Frederick. It’ll only take a second.”

Your begging smile was the only reason he relented. “...All right. But only for a moment. I’ll be standing outside as you speak. Any longer than five minutes, and I’m coming after you.” 

“Deal.” You pecked his cheek before ushering him out. Then, you were alone with the princess. You did your best to hide the pressing concerns in your voice as you came up to her. “Excuse me, Lucina. I was wondering if you’d be willing to speak.”

Lucina blinked, offering an apologetic expression. “If it’s about what I said earlier, I must apologize.” Lucina replied, looking rather sheepish. “I-I never intended to kill you after we met. At the time, I had no idea who you were. All I knew was my father trusted you, and you killed him. Little did I know, you had no idea who _you_ were, either.”

“It’s a fair point.” You sympathized with her. The “killing Chrom” part rattled you when she brought it up before, although it matched that terrible dream you had. The awful memory you buried surged back full force, just by mentioning it.

“Regardless, I want you to know that there’s no need to be afraid. You and Sir Frederick can rest easy.” She continued.

“I’m not worried about that, but thank you.” You responded. “I’m more concerned about this...time limit, you mentioned.”

“Ah.” She grimaced, looking back to the map. “It’s difficult to discern, but simply put, it’s short. I’m not sure we’ll make it in time, even if we left immediately.”

“Considering how it’s on the far end of the halidom, it’s only natural. But I wanted to talk to you about if we do miss it. What our other options are.”

“All I can tell you is what Naga told us. Either you die, or the world goes up in flames. Those are our options.” Lucina said, shoulders slumped. “After everything we went through, searching for another alternative was never considered. Now, we don’t have time to. We don’t have time for _anything.”_

“It’s all right.” You sighed softly, sinking into a chair beside her. “If those really _are_ our only options, I want you to know that I’m...I’m willing.”

She stared at you. “What?”

You put on your bravest smile, trying to be convincing. Speaking those words was numbing, making you more aware of the tiny limbs pressing against your sides. 

“War is about sacrifice, after all. If mine saves the lives of those I love, of course I’ll do it. Besides, there’s always hope for me, right? My 'death' isn’t absolute.”

“T-that’s true.” She rushed, trying to reassure you. “If your bonds are strong, you’ll return. And looking around, I can honestly say I’m not worried. I’m sure you’ll return.”

“As am I. However, there’s an issue I’ve run across, if I _do_ make that decision; We’ll have to stop the others from trying to stop _me.”_ You told her seriously, making her frown.

“What do you mean?”

“For starters, Chrom and the Shepherds will be vehemently opposed. And then there’s the issue of Frederick and Morgan.”

“I see.” She grunted. “They’ll try to stop you, won’t they?”

“To the very end.” You said solemnly. “Frederick, especially, won’t stop trying to keep me from sacrificing myself. Morgan will be on his side, naturally. You’re going to have to stop them if I make that decision.”

“We’ll do everything we can to make sure you don't.” She said firmly, eyes alight with ferocity. “I swear on my life, I'll keep _you_ alive.”

“Thank you.” You beamed at the princess, placing your hand over hers. But even with her determination, you could see the doubt behind it. You had no idea what she’d experienced. It was something she couldn’t erase. Something that allowed no room for hope; for the tiniest possibility that she might see another ending. It saddened you, but you understood.

“I think it’s time you headed back.” Lucina rose, offering a hand. “Sir Frederick must be anxious.”

You offered a brief goodbye before reuniting with your husband. Naturally, she was right; the man was pacing outside the tent, waiting. You looped your arm in his when you stepped out, sinking against him.

“I take it you spoke about something serious.” He said simply, leading you to the tent. You nodded, “Anything you’re willing to confide in me about?”

“Not at this moment. I just...wanted to make sure of something in the future.” You explained.

“You know you can tell me anything, Robin. Especially something that concerns you. If it alleviates your fears, I’ll happily be your confidant.” He insisted. Frederick lifted the tent flap, ushering you inside. 

“It’s nothing to worry about; I’ll tell you soon, anyways.” His lips twitched downward, but didn't press you further. He carefully lowered you onto the cot instead, lying you down with a warm fondness. The last few days, he’d taken to easing your physical stress whenever possible. You were still recovering from the kidnapping, after all. The least he could do was ensure you were doing as little as possible to get as much rest as you could.

“Then I insist you get some sleep.” He told you, stroking your hair. “Rest, while I assist with packing the camp. Will you be all right on your own?”

You laced his fingers with yours as you gave him a sweet smile. “Of course I will. Go get some work done.”

“I’ll return shortly.” He promised, kissing your forehead. You watched him leave with that unmistakable thump in your chest; His affection towards you always made your heartbeat speed up. The heat rose in your cheeks at a terrible degree, and you worked hard to stifle it. But you had to admit, you were thankful beyond reason to have those sensations back.

You missed Frederick’s loving touches those fifteen wretched days. All you dreamt about was feeling his arms around you again. It gave you comfort, knowing you’d be with him. At the same time, it worried you how much it hurt without him there. You barely managed fifteen days, dreaming of Frederick’s valiance. How were you supposed to survive without him after your sacrifice? The time was incalculable. It could be months, or years. _Years_ without Frederick.

The proposal to go stung most when you thought of him. Of what you were depriving him of. The family he bled and fought for, gone in an instant. The endless effort he invested in keeping you safe, thrown into a void that you had no idea how to get out of. 

How much would he suffer?

The uneasiness manifested itself in bile, which you forced down. You squeezed your eyes shut, clutching the pillow that smelled so much like your husband to your chest. You swallowed thickly, turning your head into the thin bedding. You couldn’t worry about that, now. You’d strengthen your resolve once the decision had to be made. Until then, you’d pray Naga let you live for this future.


	19. Broken and Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _‘My family is going to disappear and I can’t do anything to stop them. Because it was my_ family _who decided to make it so.’_ The bitter thought rattled around in his mind.   
>  For the first time in his life, Frederick understood the meaning of the word “betrayal”.

The tension rose.

It happened within the course of weeks. Running around the kingdom, searching in hopes of finding what they were looking for. Racing against time to save the world, to make it before the baby was found.

Within the first eight days, you were in the far corner of Ylisse. Naga was found; the sword was awakened. And the baby began to move around much more. Frederick had gotten into the habit of pressing a hand to your stomach, feeling tiny hands and feet bump against his palm.

It was the first time in eons since you saw him smile. Yet it was quickly wiped away by the reminder you were in the middle of saving the planet. The stress began to eat away at both of you.

The twelfth day rose. You returned to Plegia. The place where your father tried to “blow your head up”. Frederick wanted to keep you away from there, especially knowing Validar could get you.

That dark menace could control you, and his family. But you powered through. Even after you intercepted him at the entrance and found the assassins. Even after Validar forced you to take the Emblem from Chrom. 

Even after trying to convince Chrom to keep away, after Lucina tried to kill you, you stayed. Frederick was on the edge of panic- you were in more danger than ever. He wanted to protect you, _gods,_ did he.

So why was he constantly failing? Was his vigilance not enough?

His unconfidence worsened once you intercepted Validar. The Table was set, the Grimleal were poised to wake the dragon and ruin the future. One he needed to protect most, perhaps more than Chrom.

Then he watched you strike the Exalt down. 

The wall of magic that separated him from you was fear-inducing enough. Watching you take a blast of magic for Chrom had him throwing himself at the wall in an attempt to break through to you. Watching you stab Chrom’s chest sent him reeling. He could only look on in horror. His wife had just killed the Exalt. 

At least, until Chrom stood up. The moment it came down on Validar, Frederick took you up into his arms. He was relieved, and proud, and horribly worried at the same time. The shock of magic that rocked your body wasn’t friendly, after all.

Unfortunately, there was no time to consider. After Validar’s fall, the Robin from another time appeared. She made the sacrifice, in your stead.

The dragon rose, and she was going to end the world unless Chrom brought her down, first. At least, that’s what he initially hoped. When the war council scrambled together, he discovered the alternative.

“There’s another way.” Lucina said breathlessly, leaning against her father to support them. Frederick’s arms were around you, ensuring you held together until Libra could help you. You looked at her, hard. Frederick noticed.

“Another?” Flavia looked confused, and hopeful. Chrom looked down at his daughter, who nodded to you.

“A way to defeat the dragon for good. To secure the future for everyone.” She continued, turning your hard look into a sharp glare.

“Not here, Lucina.” You said urgently, as if something important needed to be restrained. Chrom and Frederick both stared at you, followed by the rest of the council. “I wanted to have the decision made, at least.”

“You know about this other option?” Chrom pressed, “What do we have to do? Rather, what _will_ it do?”

The princess spared you a glance, almost apologetic, before explaining. “If the vessel of Grima were to take down the dragon, then Grima would disappear for good. No thousand year sleep, no fear of the dragon’s return. It would evaporate from history.” Lucina finished, garnering a rumble from the crowd.

It was hopeful, but wary. Considering the Fell Dragon was going to end the world, it was natural they be suspicious of any hope thrown to them.

“Robin would have to kill Grima?” Frederick echoed, looking displeased. “Are you certain of this?”

“Naga told us, herself. I’ve spoken to Robin about it before, as well.” Lucina assured him, and his frown turned to you. “The decision isn’t without drawbacks, of course. Hence her silence on the option.”

“You wouldn’t like it.” You told Frederick, lowly. “To be honest, I don’t, either.”

“What’s the catch?” Chrom asked instantly, “Robin?”

“I would...well, I’d defeat Grima, on my own. However, I would disappear.”

Frederick’s heart stopped.

“I disagree with this.” He immediately said, following the uproar of several Shepherds. None of them wanted to sacrifice a friend, let alone their tactician. You’d been through enough, already. There were hundreds of lives lost- what was the point in losing another? 

“You can’t go through with it, then!” Sully spoke up, “We’ve got Chrom over here with the shiny new Falchion, right? Just let him cut the damn beast down!”

“I wouldn’t consider it if it weren’t for the payout.” You reasoned, managing to push away from Frederick and stand on your own. “Think about it- Grima, gone! Instead of worrying about showing up a millennia later, we have the rest of our time on this planet. No danger, just peace.”

“That’s all well and good, but Robin- we can’t lose you, too!” Sumia spoke up, wearing a strange worry you’d never seen. “We’ve already lost so much...a-and what about the children from the future?”

Thinking about the brokenness in Morgan’s face when you disappeared just about shattered your heart. You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

“That’s just it. I wouldn’t necessarily disappear forever. Naga said that if our bonds as friends, and family, are strong enough, I’ll come back.”

“What if it doesn’t work that way?” Frederick argued, stepping towards you. “What if Naga’s wrong? If our bonds aren’t strong enough, are you going to disappear?”

“I…”

“Will you die?” He insisted. You turned away. Frederick had more reason to question this than anyone. You knew it; asking him to gamble on the possibility of losing his entire family was too much. 

“It’s not worth it.” Chrom told you. “If we put Grima down temporarily, we can work to find another way to stop the dragon later! Isn’t that better?”

“I’d rather secure the future for generations.” You told him evenly, “But...I still have reservations about it, myself. It’s a powerful argument, after all- I have a family, and a future to look forward to.” You said. “But what’s most important is _right now,_ and that’s defeating the Fell Dragon.”

“And your chosen method is sacrificing yourself?” Chrom questioned seriously, and you faltered. You spared Frederick a glance. His eyes were begging you not to say “yes”. Your throat closed.

“...If that’s what it takes, then I will.” Your response sent the tent into an uproar. You shouldn’t have to die for them, they said. They could find another way, they said. It would be fine, they could discover another method. They didn’t want to lose another hero. 

Frederick, on the other hand- all he could do was star. Open his mouth, reach out, try and reason with you. But his mouth closed. He turned away. His fists clenched, glaring at the ground. He couldn’t do _anything,_ and he realized that.

He left, marching straight for his tent. The pain in his chest was too great. Realizing you were throwing your family away without telling him hit hard. Too hard.

Frederick latched the tent shut, drowning out the sounds of Shepherds trying to tell you not to do it. Numbly, he sank onto a crate, facing the canvas wall. He looked without seeing anything. His thoughts blinded him. He buried his face in his hands, and sighed deeply. Remorsefully.

_‘Robin’s going to die.’_ He thought. It was like a spear of ice pierced his chest. _‘She’s going to sacrifice herself, and our son. I may never see them again.’_

_‘A decision made without me. Without considering me. After everything I’ve done, I’m not worth speaking to.’_

An unconscious hand reached into the small crate stacked by the bedroll. Gloved fingers closed around the fabric of an unfinished onesie. “Papa’s Pride” still unfinished on its front, he cradled it in his hands. 

_‘My family is going to disappear and I can’t do anything to stop them. Because it was my_ family _who decided to make it so.’_ The bitter thought rattled around in his mind. 

For the first time in his life, Frederick understood the meaning of the word “betrayal”.

“...Frederick?”

And it got worse.

“Frederick, I need to talk to you.” Your voice floated into the tent, urgent and concerned. The tent was latched shut again, your muted footfalls inching closer to the man who didn’t face you. “I know you’re upset. I should’ve told you about the decision, but I couldn’t. I didn’t mean to tell anyone, but- Lucina didn’t give me much choice.”

You chuckled, sounding bitter. Frederick’s shoulders tensed, holding the cloth closer. 

“I-I need you to understand that I didn’t say anything because- I have _faith_ in our bonds. And it’s something that even if I explained, and why you wouldn’t need to worry, you’d stop me. You and Morgan would fight to keep me here. But if we’re going to save the future, it’s the only way.”

You were met with more silence. Icy, dangerous silence. Your eyes narrowed, feeling worry etch into your brow. It was unlike him to be still in an argument.

“Please...I need you to understand. I’ve got to do this. Even if I don’t want to, even though I _know_ this is risky for both me and the baby, I still have to try. This is all we have. I’ve got to give my all to this cause, don’t you see? Surely you, of all people, would understand.”

Frederick remained still. Your heart pounded, unfamiliar with the change in your husband. You reached out to touch him. To your surprise, and disdain, he pulled away. 

“Frederick…” You whispered, feeling hurt. Again, you tried to touch him. “Please listen to me, love, I...I-I’m trying to do what’s right for everyone. Isn’t that the best choice to make?”

You felt the tears build when you were only met with silence.

“Frederick, why won’t you say anything? Don’t you have _something_ to say to me? S-surely a rebuttal, a grievance… Why won’t you speak?” You asked him quietly.

Frederick turned slowly, his dark brown eyes a storm of bitter remorse. Of grief, that locked onto you and read you with a pain that rattled you to the core. Yet his voice was so soft, choked with the fear that you couldn’t hope to fathom. 

“...What can I say?” He whispered. 

You froze. 

“What can I say to you that would mean anything? My words, my thoughts, they’re meaningless to you, aren’t they? Even if I told you no, even if I moved you- would you listen?”

You both knew the answer, yet you were the one to refute it.

“You mean everything to me, Frederick. Your words and thoughts, especially. That’s why I came here, to-”

“-To remind me that despite how much you ‘value’ me, I’m going to be overridden?” He interrupted, shocking you. There was a cold bite in his words that you never experienced. “Why would you come here if you knew that you were going to throw our life together away? Why bother talking to me when you wouldn’t tell me this plan in the first place?”

“Because, I-”

“What did you expect? Did you plan on sacrificing yourself and assume that I’d be able to live with it? That I’d blindly hope you’d come back after watching you give your life- and our _unborn child’s-_ to Grima?” His voice began to rise. You stepped back.

 

“I was hoping you would listen to reason, Frederick. I was going to tell you before we even touched the dragon. I wanted to tell you in a way that it would give you hope, that you’d be willing to listen and-”

“-I’ve heard enough.” He snapped, fingers digging into the tiny outfit crinkled in his fist. “I don’t care about what you’re planning, Robin, I- I want to bring you _home._ That was the whole point of this war, wasn’t it? To win and return home and have our son in a peaceful time! To live, together!”

“That was before we learned about the future. The plan had to change, Frederick.”

“No, it didn’t.” He glowered, shaking his head. “It still doesn’t. Lord Chrom can take down the dragon, and you can come home. There’s no risk, there’s no possibility that you die. Milord is right- we can find a way to defeat her, later. This doesn’t have to happen!”

“It does, Frederick.” Was your regrettable response. Frederick pursed his lips, looking away. Your hands touched his arm, urging him to look at you. “Please, Frederick, you must understand. If we don’t do this, Morgan will grow up in a time where Grima could strike any moment. He’ll be a target for the Grimleal, as will I. At some point, I’ll have to make the sacrifice. I want to do it before Morgan has to, in my stead.”

“How do you know this is fact? How do you know we won’t raise him in peace? Do you truly think me so incapable of protecting my _family?”_ He demanded, holding the onesie to your face. “This is more important, Robin! Our family is more important than a hypothetical future! We can find a way, Robin, we...we can find another way!” 

You could see in his eyes that he knew it wasn’t true. 

Your hand rested atop his, lowering his shaking fist. The baby clothes began to slip from his fingers. “...No, we can’t. Not with this.”

“There never is.” He murmured, glaring bitterly at the ground. Your hands closed around his, squeezing them tightly. “Robin, I beg you...reconsider. Every time I attempt to reason with you it ends in something going wrong from _your_ decision. You were attacked by Validar, _kidnapped_ and held prisoner, and now you wish to sacrifice your life? What do you think will happen?”

“Whatever fate plans.” You responded softly, pulling closer to him. Frederick inhaled shakily.

“And if fate plans to take you away from me? From Morgan...forever?” 

Your eyes softened. “It won’t. We’re strong, Frederick.” You told him, feeling the argument ease into its somber conclusion. “The ties that _bind_ us are strong. We won’t falter. I’ll see you, again.”

“When?” He asked you, pulling your hands to his chest. “What if it’s months? Years? What if I’m old and gray by the time you return?”

“You won’t be.” You promised, “But only if you have faith.” You cupped his cheeks, offering a smile. Frederick’s lip trembled, brow furrowing in pain. 

“...Of course I have faith in you, Robin. But this is...this is too much for me. How am I supposed to live?” He asked hopelessly, and for the first time in your life, you saw him scared. “How will I live without you? Without our son?”

“You will live. You’re strong, Frederick. And you have faith in me.” You repeated, slipping your arms around his neck. You pulled him closer, embracing him as tightly as you could with a baby bump between you. “I’ll be home before you know it. You just have to wait.”

“For you, my dear, I would wait forever.” He muttered, feeling the mistiness in his eyes grow. His arms came around you, holding you with such tender sorrow. He buried his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the world. Against the inevitable future you’d change. “But I fear...I fear even a day will be unbearably long.”

“I know.” You kissed his neck, feeling both his and your resolve crumble. “Just promise you’ll wait for me. I’ll do everything in my power to come home. And the second I do, I’ll do whatever you tell me for the rest of our lives.”

Frederick scoffed, a weak attempt at laughter. Your hair and coat grew wet with his dreaded tears. He pressed you closer. “T-that sounds far too good to be true, milady.”

Your hand fell to your growing belly, looking down at the little Morgan inside. “I’ll be happy to make it so, my love. For the both of you.”

Frederick’s hand fell to yours. In the stillness of your tent, it was so painfully obvious when a tiny foot bumped against both your palms. Frederick bit back a sob, one you didn’t bother holding back. 

“I look forward to it…” He mumbled, before his voice finally cracked. And the dam broke. He sank to the ground with you, pulling you between his legs and grasping you against his chest. He cried for you, and you him. Words became incoherent, sorrowful promises you would strive to keep.

The grieving process began, that night. Even as he held you throughout the cold, never letting you out of his arms all through the evening. Even after you fell asleep, he mourned. He could never sleep.

It would be weeks before he could, again. 

Months before he could close his eyes without reliving the nightmare of watching you die. Seeing your disappearance into oblivion as you struck down Grima, abandoning everyone for the sake of peace. Before he could swallow the emptiness of being completely alone. No wife, no son.

Only the shell of a knight who once failed to protect the ones he loved.

That was all he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week marks the end of Sir Frederick's horribly angsty and tragic story! :"U It's been almost a year coming, so I'm very excited to have this done soon. Hang in there you guys, your feels will be saved maybe!!! :D  
> Thanks for sticking around as long as you have. It means the world to me!


	20. Cadens Cordes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hebert’s hooves thundered across the open plains, Frederick gripping onto the beast for all he was worth. Blood roared in his ears, searching wildly across the landscape in search of the one thing he ached for the last 730 days. He was finally going to _find_ you.

Chrom watched the knight with a soft frown, his captain breaking in another round of new recruits. His methods were powerful and effective, but he noticed Frederick’s heart wasn’t in it.

It hadn’t been for two years.

“Fifty sets, double time!!” Frederick’s shout was heard from all ends of the castle, much to the disdain of his trainees, and those who survived him in past seasons. Chrom cracked a small smile, listening to the collective groans of exhausted soldiers.

Even if things had changed drastically in Frederick’s life, there was one thing he’d always have- his intensity.

“Papa!” Chrom glanced back at Lucina’s cheerful cry, finding his little girl bounding up to him with a bright smile. “What’s all the yelling about?”

“Nothing to worry over, at least.” He responded warmly, lifting her into his arms. “Sir Frederick’s just training the new soldiers.”

“Oh! That’s why it’s so loud.” She concluded, grasping his shoulders. “He roars like a giant bear!”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” He kissed her temple, bouncing her. “Now, how about we head down to speak with him? I’ve got something important I need to tell him.”

“Let’s go!” She cheered, something Chrom could never get enough of. It warmed his heart to see Lucina was a happy child, and one he had no plan of leaving alone. Grima was gone, after all.

They made quick work of the castle, hurrying down to the courtyards where the poor soldiers-to-be suffered through their training. He felt he was doing them a service when he pulled the source of their pain away.

“Captain!” Chrom called as he entered the courtyards, Lucina wiggling excitedly and waving at him. The knight glanced away from literally breaking in the new recruits, offering a brief salute before pausing the training.

“You have two minutes to rest, men. Make it count.” Frederick stated coldly, before meeting the Exalt in the distance. “...Milord, milady. What can I do for you, this afternoon?” 

Chrom peeked at the soldiers, making sure none were watching their conversation. Then he looked to Frederick, a seriousness on his face unlike his gentleness. It intrigued Lucina, and concerned Frederick. “I wasn’t sure if you were aware, but we’re planning on doing another search, tomorrow.” 

That explained it.

“Tomorrow?” Frederick’s brow furrowed, eyes shining with anything but hope. “I’m afraid I was _not_ aware of this. Why so sudden?”

“It was Miriel who suggested it, actually. She thought it’d be a good idea to send out an expedition for Robin then, according to some new calculations she did the other night.”

“I see…” Frederick trailed off, hands coming behind his back as he fell silent.

“She,” Chrom cleared his throat, “She believes there’s a possible correlation between the, eh, star’s alignment and Robin’s return. Something about harmonic convergences. But that’s not what I wanted to ask you.”

“Papa wants you to come with him when they go look for your wife!” Lucina cut in, grinning brightly. “Don’tcha wanna go?”

Chrom noticed how Frederick tensed, quickly setting Lucina on the ground and nudging her in the opposite direction. “W-why don’t you go play for a little bit, sweetheart.”

“But why?”

“Because I asked nicely.” Chrom responded patiently, ruffling the girl’s hair before sending her off. “I need to speak with Sir Frederick alone, right now. Besides, I’m sure Owain would love to spar with you.”

“You’re right!” She gasped, instantly redirected. “Bye, Papa! Bye-bye, Sir Frederick!” She waved to them before bounding off. 

Chrom watched her for a moment, before turning to Frederick. The knight who, to his surprise, still stared after the princess, observing her every movement. Even after she disappeared, his gaze lingered. If Chrom didn’t know any better...he almost thought Frederick looked sorrowful. 

“Er...Frederick?” Chrom reached out, tapping Frederick’s shoulder. “You still in there?”

Frederick suddenly blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. “Beg pardon, milord. Did you say something?”

“Just making sure you’re still in there.” Chrom smiled awkwardly, “Is...everything all right?”

“Of course. I was simply thinking.” Frederick said softly, almost regretfully. Chrom frowned.

“Robin _had_ mentioned something about wanting to start a family, a little while before we entered the Valmese War. I’m...I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance. It must’ve been difficult for you, my friend.”

Frederick didn’t respond, instead looking to the ground. He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “I’d rather we not focus on that, milord. Is what Princess Lucina said true?”

Frederick was not all right, no matter what he said. But for whatever reason, he wouldn’t disclose why. Chrom decided not to push him on it. “Y-yes, Frederick. I want you to join us. I know you’re busy training recruits, but it’s important. If Robin comes back, it’s best if you’re there. T-that’s my thinking, anyways.”

“I appreciate your consideration, milord. However...I’m unsure.” Frederick sighed, looking at the troops. “It’s such short notice, and I...I don’t believe I’m fit to join you.”

“Not fit?” Chrom repeated, flabbergasted. “Frederick, you’re her husband! If anyone’s ‘fit’ to join us, it’s you! I mean, who do you think she’ll want to see when she comes back?”

Frederick frowned. “I understand, milord, but I’m afraid you do not. I can’t join you. Not tomorrow.” 

“Why?” Chrom restrained from raising his voice, feeling frustration set in. “You’ve joined us every other time. Why not this one?”

“For precisely that reason. I-” Frederick looked up at Chrom, allowing him to see the grief. It froze the king. “I don’t believe I would be able to handle another failure.”

“...I see.” Chrom finally murmured, his gaze falling to the floor as well. “But, what if this time, she does come back? Wouldn’t you want to be there?”

“Milord, in the last two years we have been on forty-four searches, all of which ended in failure. The margin of success the next has is less that one percent. While I hope from the deepest recesses of my heart that she returns, I fear another losswill only make it hurt worse.”

“The Frederick I know wouldn’t be afraid of another failure.” Chrom said lowly, feeling disappointment for what his knight had become. “This is Robin we’re talking about, Frederick. Have you given up?”

“I’ll never give up on her.” Frederick said. “But...I cannot risk another loss. I like to think I understand myself better than anyone, and I know the pain of that loss would only-”

“-You’re afraid, Frederick.” Chrom stated. Frederick’s mouth closed, staring at his liege. “ _You,_ of all people, are afraid of failure!”

“I am not afraid, I simply- I-I just don’t believe I can handle another. It’s been two years, milord, and I- I’ve too much to lose, if it happens again.”

“What does that mean? You’re trying to find her, aren’t you? What’s another failure, if it even _is_ one?” Chrom reasoned, but Frederick shook his head.

“This is the one time I will not be able to comply with your request, milord.”

“Frederick, answer me.” Chrom stepped closer, “What does ‘I have too much to lose’ mean? You have _nothing_ to lose!”

“I must refuse, milord.”

“Why?” Chrom demanded, louder. A few of the knights looked over, concerned. Frederick huffed, biting the inside of his cheek. “What did you mean by those words?”

“Milord, I’m not sure I’m at liberty to tell you.” He muttered, “Robin had me promise not to speak of it during the war, much to my absolute frustration, yet even now I’m sure she’d have a reason for me not to say anyth-”

“It’s an order.” Chrom gave up, crossing his arms. Frederick fell completely silent, unable to dispute him. “What could possibly be so horrible that you can’t help us find your wife?”

The silence between them was thick. Neither moved, blinked, or breathed. But someone had to speak. With a heaving breath, Frederick conceded, lips drawn in a thin line as he struggled for words.

“Lord Chrom…” He began, barely able to stutter them out. “When I- ...when we, Robin and I, we- that is, _before_ we discovered Walhart was targeting Ferox, Libra informed her that she was…” 

Frederick paused, lips quirking down. Chrom urged him to continue, despite the sheer brokenness forming on Frederick’s face. “She was what?”

“Robin was with child.” He finally spoke. Frederick forced the words out as if he’d held them in the last two years. It hit Chrom like a wall of stone. 

“Oh, Frederick.” Chrom breathed, watching Frederick’s eyes fall shut, full of withheld pain.

“Shortly after, Raimi told us of the Conqueror’s plans. Robin insisted we fight. That the child be kept secret, up to the last possible moment.”

Chrom’s hand came to his mouth. “You didn’t tell anyone? Frederick, why didn’t you say anything?”

“If I had a choice, I‘d’ve kept her here. The entire time, I fought to convince her otherwise, to bring her home. But she wouldn’t listen- never did. I suppose it’s one of the downfalls of marrying a strong woman; she always had her way.”

“I can’t believe this.” Chrom whispered, eyes wide in shock. “Y-you let her make that sacrifice? You let her kill Grima?”

Frederick’s expression morphed into one of absolute agitation, and Chrom knew. Of course Frederick didn’t _let_ you do it. You didn’t let him say otherwise. And you both knew why- it had to happen. Even with a baby in tow. 

“Watching my family disappear before my very eyes… I cannot unsee it, milord. Every time we’ve gone on an expedition, I’ve hoped that I would find her. That we would have the family I’ve ached for.” Frederick sighed, shakily. Chrom regretted his order. “Alas, it wasn’t so. I...question when it will be.”

“It’ll happen, Frederick.” Chrom replied with conviction, bringing Frederick’s hopeless gaze to him. “She promised she’d be back. We just have to wait, and be there when she does.”

“I know, milord. But I am afraid I cannot join, this time. Every failure feels as if I’ve lost her...that I’ve lost them, all over again. I would like some time before I can face that feeling, again.”

Chrom understood that. It was why he let Frederick excuse himself from the rest of training and escape. It made sense of all the struggling Frederick went through. Why he was so regretful, and grief-stricken.

He lost everything important to him, forty-four times over. It was for that reason Frederick was excluded from the forty-fifth search, for the sake of retaining what was left of his faith and sanity.

 _‘I only hope it’s the right decision.’_ Chrom thought, before turning to the waiting recruits. Perhaps he should see to someone else taking over. Frederick wouldn’t return anytime soon.

~*~

The Great Knight came into his quarters without a word. The only sound was his armor clanking loudly, and the lock as he shut the door. He stood there, taking in the silence. This was how he lived his life for years, yet he couldn’t readjust. Two years with you had done far more than thirty without.

With a soft sigh, he unlatched his armor, setting each piece of it on its stand. The ribbon around his neck loosened, opening the drawer of his desk to set it inside. His hand paused. His eyes dropped to the blue fabric tucked away inside. 

His fingers closed around it, slowly drawing it out. He sank into the desk chair, staring at the tiny clothing. Still missing its bottom half, knitted letters incomplete. Frederick drank in every detail- tiny holes, unfinished and slightly worn from having been discarded into his desk. 

The first few months, he couldn’t look at it without breaking down. Yet, as he observed his work now, he felt nothing. Perhaps because he’d finally said it. He finally poured out the truth to someone. Seeing someone who understood him, made him feel better. 

No, he thought. His brow furrowed. Not better. Just more regretful of the things he couldn’t change.

And gods, were they endless. Plaguing his mind were all the things he should’ve done, but never did. The failures of not protecting you, or Morgan. They bothered him always, unless he found a way to distract himself. So far, the only solution was sleep. Something he reminded himself of when he glanced out the window, finding the sky had grown quite dark.

 _‘I suppose it’s best if I retire for the evening.’_ He thought to himself. Few things that swirled in his mind were good, come nighttime. _‘I pray that I’ll see you tomorrow, my love.’_

Yet even as he thought his final prayer, he felt nothing. No pull at his heart, no urging in his mind to go on the search. There was only the emptiness of his solitude. Surely, if you were to come home, he’d feel something.

But now, all he felt was tired; an exhaustion that sleep wouldn’t remedy, despite telling himself that after he drifted off. One could only hope, after all.

~*~

A hope that started him from his sleep. 

It was a spark, at first. He barely stirred, feeling the strange sensation in his chest. It was nothing, he thought, until that spark turned into a jolt. His heart suddenly clenched. Frederick woke from his sleep with a gasp, sitting up and clutching at his chest. His eyes were wide, gasping for breath as his heart pounded. Cold sweat beaded on his face, making him pause. Why did he feel so strange?

Frederick looked to the window- the sky was barely gray, the indication that dawn hadn’t even considered the thought of breaking. Yet here he was, awake.

_‘Why?’_

He looked at his hands, which shook. It was as if he was anticipating something. Like his body was trying to tell him something important. His legs had a strange ache.

“Go,” they said. 

Frederick’s brows knit together, hands clutching at the sheets. Something was happening. What, he didn’t know. But he needed to move. Without a word he rose, hastily trading the clothes he fell asleep in for those which were fresh and passing a comb through his hair hastily, deeming himself ready to go. And he went.

His body brought him out of the castle, rushing to the stables. Hebert was already awake, pawing at the ground restlessly. Frederick placed a hand on the horse’s neck, feeling the confusion grow.

“You’re awake, too? Don’t tell me you feel this, as well.” Frederick asked tiredly, to which the horse whinnied in response. “What in Naga’s name is going on…?”

“Frederick?” 

He turned at Chrom’s voice, startled by the sight of the royals. “M-milord, milady...what are you doing here?”

“We should ask you the same thing!” Lissa sounded bright, despite the morning being nonexistent. “It’s awful early, even for you.”

“I hadn’t planned on being awake. I just...woke.” Frederick replied, knowing how strange it sounded. Chrom quirked an eyebrow. “...I haven’t any explanation for it, I simply felt the need to be awake, and go somewhere. But where, I don’t know. I-it’s very strange, milady.”

“I’ll say.” Lissa giggled, “But it’s not a problem! In fact, this is a perfect opportunity! Chrom and I were planning on going to find Robin ourselves, today. Why don’t you join us?”

_Oh._

It was as if something suddenly snapped inside Frederick. His eyes flew wide open, mouth agape as the realization struck him like a bolt of Thoron. His body shook, heart exploding into a painful beat. He stared at the pair looking equally surprised.

“R-Robin?” His throat was raw. 

Chrom nodded, “Yes, we were planning to leave early to scout ahead. We don’t know why, but it just feels right, to be heading out now. Both of us feel that way.”

“Looks like all three of us do, now.” She nudged him, looking to the now pale knight. “Are you going to join us then, Frederick? I mean, after we get all our supplies and things ready to-”

“I-I…” He stammered, reaching for Hebert. “I can’t. I have to go, now…!”

“W-what?”

Frederick leapt onto the horse without another word, pulling Hebert from the stables without so much as a bridle. Instead he jumped onto the horse’s bare back, digging his heels into his sides and bursting out of the castle.

“F-Frederick wait!!” Lissa cried, “Where are you going?!”

Lissa began to give chase, but Chrom stopped her. “Wait. I think he’s going after Robin.” 

“What?!”

Chrom broke into a grin. “Come on. We need to saddle up if we’re going to keep up. Something tells me he’s going to be the one finding Robin.”

Lissa’s eyes sparkled, returning his smile a thousand-fold. “No way! You really think so?”

“You felt it, didn’t you?” He pointed to his chest, “Imagine how Frederick must feel. They’re married, after all. If anyone’s bonds are strong enough to bring her back, it’s his.”

With that thought in mind, they watched their knight go. And gods, did he go.

Hebert’s hooves thundered across the open plains, Frederick gripping onto the beast for all he was worth. Blood roared in his ears, searching wildly across the landscape in search of the one thing he ached for the last 730 days. He was finally going to _find_ you.

_Robin._

He rode on, panting for breath as the wind whipped at his face, stinging his cheeks the faster he moved in the crisp morning air. 

_Robin._

He didn’t know how far he went. Southtown was long past gone by the time he looked up. There was nothing but green around him, the grassy valley dotted with brightly colored flowers, standing out against the landscape that was barely awake.

_Robin._

Hebert finally came to a stop, the horse heaving for breath when they slowed to the center of the plain. Frederick’s brow furrowed, the strange urging that had woken him so powerfully suddenly quiet. He looked around, a bead of sweat dripping down his face.

There was nothing. You weren’t anywhere to be found, as he surveyed the land. Frederick’s shoulders slumped, looking down at the pastel fauna all around. 

_Robin._

The fauna that suddenly stopped mere meters away, their pattern disrupted by a splash of black and gold, of faded purple fabric that Frederick had seen so many times. By the lone figure standing there, tactician’s coat flapping in the gentle breeze.

Frederick couldn’t breathe.

A pair of soft, intelligent eyes found his, despite the distance between them. His body stopped functioning when he realized how familiar they were. How full of love and loss they were, that resonated so painfully with his own. 

_...Robin?_

It was the smile that did it. A gentle smile that crossed their lips… _your_ lips. A wave of memories crashed into him, feeling every surge of love he’d ever felt when you gave him that smile. Frederick slipped from Hebert’s back, grasping his mane. Too afraid he might collapse if he stared any longer. Wondering if what he saw was even real. That is, until you spoke.

“Hello, Frederick.”

Your whisper was like a stab in the chest. A painful, brutal, wonderful pain that made all his suffering multiply, yet disappear. His face contorted in shock, hands slipping from his horse. It had been two years since he heard your voice. Since he heard you call his name. 

Cautiously, he took a step forward. Then another, and another. The world around you faded; all that mattered was the woman standing before him, who watched him walk toward you with tears brimming in your eyes. Another twist in Frederick’s heart, another step closer. 

He walked to you, finding your body becoming more and more solid. You weren’t fading away, and you were far from an illusion. You were here.

Your hands touched your stomach, his presence overpowering you both when he finally stood before you. Mere inches away, so painfully close.

“I’ve missed you, love.”

Frederick’s eyes narrowed, lips curling downward. A calloused hand slowly reached out, as if afraid to touch you. Like he wanted to make sure you were there, but too frightened of it being false. But he had to take the step. He reached out.

Trembling fingers touched your cheek.

“Robin…?”

He asked hoarsely, thick with disbelief. It wasn’t until he felt the tears drip down his fingers that he knew you were home. You nodded vigorously, pressing his hand to your cheek.

“It’s me, Frederick.”

A sob welled in his chest.

“I-I’m home.”

The dam broke.

 _"Robin!!"_ The guttural cries that escaped him were raw, and deep. He smashed you to his chest, pulling you into him as he sank to his knees on the ground. You flew into his arms without a second thought, wrapping them tightly around his neck and holding him for all you were worth. 

You listened as he wept bitterly, crying incoherently into your hair as he clutched you to his body. You shook as the sobs wracked your body, pressing endless kisses against his cheeks and his forehead, his nose and eyes and lips. 

You bawled into one another, grasping onto each other with no intention of letting go. Never again. 

His hands wandered all over your body, touching your cheeks, your shoulders, the precious baby growing inside you, five months strong, and coming back around you. The touch both of you had longed for, finally back. You were finally home.

It was hours before you could move again, only to have Frederick scoop you up into his arms and carry you back to the castle. The castle where you would sob with your friends and family, where you would lie in bed for entire days with your husband, cooing over the little newborn squeaking and wiggling between his mother and father.

The family you fought so hard for, that Frederick so longed for, safe and sound.

Together, at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So endeth the series!!  
> Also, I figured I should note; The title means "Rising Action" in Latin, and the end chapter means "Falling Hearts", as in "falling back together", in that sense. :)  
> It's a little silly but I thought it fit well so..yeah. Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate every single one of you who stuck with me from the beginning- you're all wonderful, and I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it! I plan on doing more with Frederick and Fire Emblem in the future, so stay tuned! <3  
> You're all the best.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to update this as often as I can, every Thursday! This time will be a little special because it's a kick-off for the account. It's my first attempt at posting something here, so we'll see how it goes! "Ortu Actio" will always be uploaded here, first! Stick around this account if you want to be the first to know what happens next.


End file.
